Two Different People
by Elraralia
Summary: [COMPLETED] Fate never reveals which two people's lives are going to be woven together.
1. Two Different People

_I have returned with another fanfic for your reading pleasure. Have figured out that my inspiration for "serious", romantic, sweet stories last a lot longer than my inspiration for funny stories. And therefore I will be writing "serious", romantic, sweet stories._

_As I have mentioned before, it has come to my attention that Éomer has been rather left out of the love stories, and that's definitely unfair because he definitely did fall in love, he wasn't alone and miserable till the last days of his life. And so I have taken it upon myself to write the love story for him. Ain't I nice?_

**Disclaimer: I do not, I repeat, do NOT, own anything LotR. If I did, I would be actually PUBLISHING all my stories and making tons of money instead of writing them for free on FanFiction.net.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 : Two Different People**

* * *

Lothíriel frowned at the people bustling about, getting ready for the long journey to Rohan. Her father, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, came up to her. "Are you ready, Lothíriel?" he asked.

"Why must we travel again? You just returned to Dol Amroth, Father."

"We are going to attend the wedding of Faramir, the Steward of Gondor and the Prince of Ithilien, and Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan," he told her, a smile on his face.

"Why must I go, Father? Surely they did not invite me? I have done nothing for them to have even heard of me. Why don't you just leave me in Dol Amroth, Father, and attend the wedding yourself? I have no wish to go to Rohan."

A stable boy led Imrahil's great stallion to him, and he took the reins. As he mounted, he laughed and said, "Come, my daughter, Faramir is your cousin! Would you not be present at your cousin's happiest day?"

"I haven't seen him for so long. He must have changed a lot," Lothíriel muttered as she mounted her own horse, a stallion only slightly smaller than her father's. It was no secret that Lothíriel was a good rider, and that she could control almost any horse with a soothing word. Her father nodded, and rode on, followed by his soldiers. With a sigh, Lothíriel joined the other travellers.

* * *

By the second day, Lothíriel was wishing fervently that her father had never wanted her to accompany him to the wedding. She was turning twenty, and now she would have to spend her birthday attending the wedding of a cousin she had not met in years, and probably could not even remember her name, in a country she had never seen. What was the point of it all?

Isindil, her father's right-hand man, and also his most trusted friend, joined her in her simple meal of stew. Isindil had watched her grow up, and was in most ways like an uncle to her. Lothíriel smiled, glad for his company. "How are you enjoying your meal, Lothíriel?" Isindil asked, settling down next to her with his own bowl of stew.

"It's good, thank you. A most filling meal," she remarked, setting her bowl down. "Isindil, why does my father want so much for me to go to Rohan?"

Isindil shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't tell you why, I'm not exactly sure myself. But I'm sure your father has his reasons. Anyway, why don't you want to go to Rohan?"

"I don't know. I don't know anyone in Rohan. I'll feel like such a stranger. And… I didn't really plan on spending my birthday as a stranger in some foreign country. Anyway, I was doing just fine in Dol Amroth."

Isindil laughed, poking about the remnants of his stew. "That's just like you. Don't you _ever_ like change, girl? Since you were a child, you always found something you were comfortable with, and wanted to stay that way forever. Perhaps that's why your father wants you to go to Rohan. You're too afraid of changes." He finished up his stew and stood. "Well, I have to go and get the tents ready for the night now."

Lothíriel nodded, watching as he walked away from her. Then she hugged her knees to her and sighed.

* * *

Lothíriel tossed and turned, but sleep was still far, far away. The canvas flaps of her tent rippled a little in the light breeze coming from outside, and she sat up, pulling a cloak over her shoulders. Perhaps a little night stroll would help her get some sleep. She groped about in the darkness for her boots, and put them on.

The air was crisp and fresh outside, and a cooling breeze hit her face the minute she pulled back the flaps of her tent. She smiled. It was almost like home. She walked among the tents, and noticed that a light still shone from within one not too far away. When she got closer, she realised that it was her father's tent.

She walked up to it, intending to go in and speak with him. Then she stopped. There were two people in that tent. She sneaked in a little closer, wanting to hear what they were saying.

"I think Lothíriel will really like Rohan, Isindil," her father was saying. "Éomer, the new King of Rohan, also mentioned that I should bring Lothíriel to Rohan, since I've spoken of her to him before."

"Éomer is a good man. A little young to be king, though," Isindil remarked.

"I don't think so. He has the strength, and he knows what his country needs. In fact, I have great respect for him."

"He's unmarried, is he?"

"Yes, he's unmarried. It would be the great fortune of a woman to be married to him. If Lothíriel was able to wed such a man I would be able to rest all my worries!"

Lothíriel's eyes widened, and she turned, hurrying back to her tent. _So my father is forcing me to go to Rohan to marry the King!_

* * *

Éomer watched with his future brother-in-law as the women decorated the hall for the wedding. "The Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. That's quite a lot to say, isn't it?" he joked.

Faramir laughed. "Just call me Faramir, my Lord."

"And you just call me Éomer."

The two just grinned at each other, and then turned back to watch the women at work, nodding in approval whenever a woman looked over at them. "There's going to be plenty of people at the wedding, isn't there?" Faramir remarked.

"Yes, I would believe it to be so. Why? Are you getting nervous already?"

"No, not yet, thank goodness, but I was just thinking that there'll probably be so many people whom I don't know there, and I hardly have any family attending my wedding." Faramir sighed, shaking his head. "I always thought my brother would at least be at my wedding."

"Don't worry… your brother would be happy for you. Anyway, you have your uncle, and Imrahil's bringing his daughter, so you would have your cousin with you as well."

"Oh, Lothíriel? I have not seen my cousin for a long time, it would be lovely to see her again."

"Yes, that's why I mentioned that perhaps Lothíriel would like to come to Rohan for the wedding."

Faramir nodded, pleased. "Yes, that would be very nice. Sometimes I think children are far too left out of their father's lives."

To that, Éomer just had to agree.

* * *

Éomer lay awake that night, staring into the darkness. Patterns swirled before his eyes, and he blinked in an attempt to be rid of them.

He thought back on all that had happened, from the time he had met Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. Since then, time had seemed to flash by in a blur, and it had been too hard to try to keep track. And so everything had gone by in a whirl, and now here he was, the King of Rohan.

It seemed a little surreal, being the king. Everyone knew that one day that moment would arrive, since Théodred's death, but no one had expected it to be so soon. Éomer definitely had not. He sighed into the darkness, wishing once more that his uncle had not fallen in the battle. Théoden had been a good king, and a very loving uncle. Éomer was not sure how he was to live up to whatever his uncle had done for Rohan, for the Rohirrim, but his last thought before falling asleep was that no matter what had happened, and what had changed, he was ready.

* * *

_I actually had to replace this chapter because I went and forgot that Faramir and Lothíriel are cousins. Thanks to the two reviewers (Hope and Punky Cobain) who reminded me!_


	2. The First Meeting

_I replaced the 1st chapter, please be sure to read the new version if you haven't!_

* * *

**Chapter 2 : The First Meeting**

* * *

"We'll be in Edoras tomorrow. What do you think?" Imrahil smiled at his daughter, hoping that she would be happy at finally reaching their destination.

"Fantastic," she said simply, frowning off into the distance.

Imrahil wrinkled his brow. He wondered what had happened with his daughter. Suddenly she had become so sullen, obviously unhappy at having to make this journey. What was it that had come over her? "What's wrong, Lothíriel? You've been looking so unhappy these days."

"Nothing's wrong, Father," she replied. "Come, let us move on, and perhaps we could reach Edoras sooner."

* * *

Lothíriel's temper was simmering, boiling up inside her. She simply could not believe that her father wanted to marry her off, but she had heard it with her own ears; he had said that he would be pleased if she would marry Éomer! She found it incredibly insulting that she was seen as nothing more but a tool to establish good relations between Dol Amroth and Rohan, and that her father would use her in such a way.

Already she did not have a good picture of Éomer in her mind. She imagined him rather short and plump, a jovial young man who would much rather have wine, women and song than fight for his country. No matter what her father said, she believed that he had survived the wars due to good luck more than valour or courage.

Isindil rode up next to her, glancing at her occasionally. No doubt he was wondering what was wrong with her as well. She had no intention of answering any of his questions, if he had any. He was in it too, he and her father. They would push her towards Éomer, just a piece on the board. She deliberately did not look over to him, did not acknowledge his presence.

* * *

They covered a great distance that day, and the night was passed in a satisfied silence. Lothíriel stayed in her tent, not wanting to speak with anyone. It crossed her mind that she was behaving like a spoilt, petty child, but she thought of her father and his plans, and the anger began to boil in her again, and so she made no effort to correct her own behaviour.

The next morning, they looked upon Edoras. Imrahil came to ride beside his daughter, and looked over at her worriedly. "Here we are, my daughter. I know you are not the best of moods, but please, try to be nice when you meet the king," he said.

_So he will agree to marry me?_ Lothíriel thought scathingly, but she said nothing, only nodded her head. Imrahil nodded back, satisfied, and the party rode into Edoras.

* * *

Faramir was standing at the entrance of the Golden Hall, a huge smile on his face. Seeing him made Lothíriel smile despite herself, and feel a _little_ better about coming to Rohan. _He has changed that much, after all_, she thought to herself. _And he looks so happy_.

"Welcome, my dear uncle," he said as he and Imrahil embraced. "It is good to see you again so soon." Then his gaze fell onto Lothíriel, and his smile widened. "Lothíriel! It's been such a long time. My, you really _have_ changed!"

Lothíriel laughed. "I was twelve when you last saw me, Faramir, of course I have changed. You look much the same, though."

Faramir nodded seriously. "It's what happens when you get old," he said, winking. "Well, I'm so glad you've come. Éowyn and Éomer will be out in a moment to meet you. They're very pleased that you have arrived."

As if on cue, the doors of the Golden Hall opened, and out came a beautiful lady, moving with much grace. Behind her followed a young man, but Lothíriel dismissed him as a guard, so fixed in her mind was the image of a fat little man.

From the look in Faramir's eyes, Lothíriel knew at once that the lady was Éowyn, and gave her a warm smile. Éowyn looked nice, and it wasn't her fault that Lothíriel was going to be treated with so little respect. Éowyn returned the smile, and said, "Welcome to Edoras once more, Prince Imrahil. And this must be your daughter, Lothíriel." She stepped forward and took Lothíriel's hands. "I am so glad to meet you. Faramir was so looking forward to seeing you again."

Lothíriel bowed her head. "It is my pleasure to meet you, Lady Éowyn. Faramir is lucky to be marrying you."

Éowyn was obviously very pleased to hear this, and so was Faramir, from the delighted look he shot his cousin.

Then the young man who had appeared with Éowyn came to her, after speaking with her father. "Welcome to Edoras, my lady. I am Éomer, King of the Mark. It is wonderful to be meeting you, after hearing everything you father has said about you."

Lothíriel stared up at him for a moment, a little shocked. Her image of Éomer obviously had been completely inaccurate, and she had not expected this handsome young man to be the King of the Mark. Then she shook herself, and forced a smile. "Thank you, my Lord, you are most kind." Looking at him, she wondered if he had any idea of what her father was planning to do. She was already determined not to like him. She would not let her father have his way that easily.

* * *

That evening, Lothíriel stood alone in a corner of the Golden Hall, watching the merry scene before her. People were dancing to the joyful, upbeat music, and the hall was noisy with everyone's laughter and the different conversations that went on. She watched as her father made his way to join her.

"Why are you standing here all by yourself?" he asked with a smile. "Come, you should be enjoying yourself. Not only is it your cousin's wedding day, it's also your birthday!"

Lothíriel gave him a little smile. "I _am_ enjoying myself. I just don't feel like making aimless conversation with people I don't know, and Faramir looks so happy dancing with Éowyn there."

"Well, it wouldn't do if you just spent the whole night talking to an old man like me," Imrahil joked. "Look, Éomer is over there. Perhaps you could speak with him? He is such a gentleman, I'm sure you'll enjoy his company."

Lothíriel felt her temper rising again at that remark. "That's all right, Father, I will speak with someone when I feel the need to," she said, perhaps a little more sharply than she wanted to. "Don't you worry about me."

Imrahil gave her a look, then nodded and went back to join the others. Lothíriel continued her sulking in her corner.

"Are you having a good time?" someone asked from beside her.

Lothíriel jumped. Caught up in her own thoughts, she had not noticed that Éomer had come to stand beside her. He gave her a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry if I startled you…"

"No, not at all," she said coolly. "It was time someone woke up from my thoughts, anyway."

He nodded towards the dancing couples. "Faramir and Éowyn definitely seem to be enjoying themselves. Are you?"

"I'm all right."

"Just 'all right'?" Éomer smiled and offered Lothíriel his hand. "Perhaps I could help with that. Would you like to dance?"

Lothíriel eyed his hand, a debate raging inside her. _Father might take it as a good sign if I danced with him, and before I know it, it'd be _my_ wedding! But Éomer is a nice person after all, and I don't _really_ want to offend him…_

She took his hand.


	3. A Talk In The Night

_Thanks for all your reviews! =0)_

**Chapter 3 : A Talk In The Night**

* * *

"Do you ride, Lothíriel?" Éowyn asked at breakfast.

Imrahil smiled proudly on his daughter. "Lothíriel is a fine rider," he said.

Lothíriel nodded, secretly praying that her father would just stop promoting her so shamelessly in front of Éomer, who was sitting at the head of the table, eating his breakfast in silence. She looked up from her bowl at Éowyn. "Yes, I love to ride."

"Then perhaps you would like to join us after breakfast? We're going riding," Faramir said. "Again, I might add."

Éowyn grinned at him. "Well, you _are_ in the realm of the Rohirrim, and we are the masters of horses, my Lord Faramir."

"I understand, my Lady Éowyn, and I do enjoy going riding with you," Faramir replied, grinning right back at her.

Lothíriel tried not to giggle at the lovely couple. Instead, she said, "Yes, I would love to go riding with the both of you. It would be nice to spend more time with my cousin and his wife."

Pleased, Éowyn then turned to her brother. "How about you, Éomer? Are you going to join us?"

_Please, please no_, Lothíriel prayed. She definitely did not feel like spending that much time in Éomer's presence. If he went, she would probably be left to speak with him again.

Éomer looked up from his breakfast, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't today. I have matters to attend to, and I need to speak with Éothain after breakfast. He's just returned from the Westfold." He looked apologetically at Lothíriel. "I'm sorry, my lady, that I cannot join you…"

"That's perfectly all right," Lothíriel interrupted. "I understand."

* * *

"I've always loved riding," Éowyn said. "When I was a child, I would spend whole mornings riding. It helped me forget my troubles."

"I used to lose myself in books. Whenever I got a scolding from Father, I would disappear into the library and spend the whole day lost in my books. It only made things worse, of course, but at least for that time I would feel better," Faramir said. "How about you, cousin? What did you do to forget your troubles?"

Lothíriel closed her eyes, letting the wind brushed against her cheeks. "The Sea. I would stand at the top of the cliff, staring out into the sea for hours on end. I love everything about it; the steady roar of the waves, the beautiful blue of the water, the vastness of it all, stretching out into the horizon…" She opened her eyes. "Sometimes, when I felt frustrated by something, I would just stare out into the sea, and my anger would just melt away."

Éowyn smiled wistfully. "It sounds beautiful, the Sea. I have never seen it, but one day I would like to look upon it."

Lothíriel reached out and took Éowyn's hand. "You will always be welcome to Dol Amroth, and one day we will look out into the horizon together." And she meant every word; Lothíriel already loved her new cousin.

Éowyn held Lothíriel's hand tightly. "Thank you. I will not be forgetting the invitation."

"Neither will I."

* * *

Éomer leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He looked across the hall at the throne. He wasn't very used to sitting there yet. One day he would probably have to spend ages sitting there, listening to his men's reports and his people's troubles, but for now, he was very content with this chair.

Éothain had just left the hall after giving his report, and Éomer was rather pleased by what he had heard. The Westfold was doing well; the people were rebuilding their homes, starting their lives again. _One day soon I will have to ride out there_, Éomer told himself. _When my guests return to Dol Amroth._

He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to let his mind wander. He thought back to the night before, and the Lady Lothíriel. He wondered if he had offended her somehow; she had spoken to him so coldly at the wedding feast. He let the events of the previous day run through his mind, but he could not find a single instance where he could have angered her. Perhaps she was just eccentric?

He opened his eyes when he heard a door open, but it was just a serving woman, done with her chores. He nodded to her when she looked over, on her way out of the hall. Then he closed his eyes once more. _Whatever it is about Lothíriel, she's an interesting girl,_ he thought. She was different from other girls, and he could see exactly why the Prince of Imrahil was so proud of her. It would be pleasant if he could speak with her more.

* * *

Imrahil walked with Isindil through Edoras. "What do you think is wrong with Lothíriel? She seems… moody… lately," Imrahil remarked to his closest friend.

Isindil shrugged. "I don't know. She's never really behaved like that before, has she?"

Imrahil nodded in agreement. "Somehow I get the feeling that she is always displeased whenever I praise her in front of others, and I just cannot understand that. Can't a father be proud of his daughter?"

"There isn't anything wrong with that."

"Exactly. But she doesn't seem to like it now. Usually she would be so flattered and happy to hear people singing her praises."

"Maybe she thinks you're trying to get King Éomer to marry her," Isindil said with a grin.

Imrahil laughed. "You had better be joking, Isindil, because that's ridiculous. I would never do something like that to my daughter."

"I _was_ joking."

"Good, or you're a bigger fool than I thought."

* * *

Lothíriel sat up with a start, cold sweat pouring down her forehead. _What a horrid dream_, she thought to herself. She had dreamt of herself as a little girl, sitting on the cliff with her mother, laughing and enjoying the view of the sea. Suddenly the rocks began to crumble, and before she knew it, her mother had disappeared, fallen into the eternity of the waters. And she was alone.

She lay her head back down again, telling herself that it was only a dream, that she was no longer a child, and that she was not alone. She had her father, and everything was safe. She closed her eyes, hoping to go back to sleep, but sleep would not come. All she got were the terrifying images of her dream swirling about in her mind.

She finally gave up trying to get some sleep. She got out of the bed, and wrapped her cloak around herself. Putting on her boots, she left her room. She crept down the hall, trying not to make any noise. She didn't want to wake anybody.

She sat on the steps of the Golden Hall, looking up at the stars. She wondered if her mother was looking down on her at that moment. It was comfort to imagine that she was. Lothíriel pulled her cloak tighter around her. Sometimes she felt so alone with her mother. In Dol Amroth, she could at least look over the sea, and remember those beautiful days when she and her mother would look over the blue waters together. Here in Rohan, however, she could only look up at the stars and ask questions that could never be answered.

She heard footsteps behind her, then a voice saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry… I could… I didn't mean to disturb… I'll…"

She turned to see Éomer, about to walk away. For a moment she considered just letting him walk away, but she changed her mind. This was his country, and she was his guest. "No, my Lord, it's all right. I was about to leave anyway," she said, standing up.

"No, no, stay," Éomer protested. "Come, let us do it this way. You stay where you are, and I'll sit over there. That way, we can both sit and think without being disturbing each other." He went to sit at the other end of the stairs before Lothíriel could reply, and so she had no choice but to sit back down again.

They both sat in silence, but Lothíriel couldn't help glancing over at Éomer. He seemed to be staring out into the distance, into nothing. She wondered what he was thinking of. _Don't speak to him, you're trying to _not_ like him, remember? Besides, he doesn't want to be disturbed._ She turned back to her own thoughts, staring back up at the stars. Then she sighed and glanced at him again. He had not made a sound, nor moved, at all. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "What are you thinking about?"

"My uncle," Éomer replied. "I never knew how much he had done for us until I had to take his place. Suddenly I wish I had had the chance to thank him properly."

"It must be hard to have to become a king so suddenly, to have everything change at once," Lothíriel said. "Aren't you ever afraid?"

Éomer shook his head. "No, I can't say that I'm afraid. Worried, perhaps. Sometimes I'm worried that I will let everyone down, and bring down everything that my uncle did. I was never supposed to take the throne, Théodred was. But things happened and now I suppose I will just have to deal with it the best I can."

"You are brave to think about it this way. I would never be able to do the same," Lothíriel admitted.

"Well, that's enough about me. What were _you_ thinking of, my Lady?"

Lothíriel sighed. "I was thinking about my mother. She died when I was eleven. I still miss her."

"I understand. But look at the stars; I believe that our loved ones look down on us."

"That was exactly what I was wondering about just now."

"Then I'm glad that I said the right thing." Éomer stood up. "Well, I suppose I will try to go back to sleep now. The night air must have done some good, and speaking with you has helped eased my worries. I thank you, my Lady." He came over and extended a hand. "Would you like me to accompany you back to your room?"

Lothíriel shook her head. "No, I think I'll stay out here a little longer. But thank you, my Lord."

* * *

_I really need to admit something… I'm not sure if Lothíriel's lost her mother, I don't have my LotR books with me right now and I couldn't find anything on Imrahil's wife on the LotR sites on the Internet, so I just assumed that she had passed away! I hope I didn't get that wrong… many apologies if I did!_


	4. Just A Misunderstanding

**Chapter 4 : Just A Misunderstanding**

* * *

Lothíriel dressed and stepped out of her room. Opposite, her father's room's door was slightly ajar, and she could hear him speaking with Isindil. Curious, she crept over so she could make out what they were saying.

"We should be returning to Dol Amroth, Isindil," Imrahil was saying.

Just then, a serving girl came down the hallway, and Lothíriel went over to her room's door so as to seem as if she had not been doing any eavesdropping. The girl dropped her a little curtsey, and she nodded in acknowledgement, and waited till the girl disappeared from sight. Then she continued her eavesdropping.

"They seem to like each other," Isindil said.

"Yes, I'm just absolutely delighted that things have turned out this way…"

Lothíriel felt her cheeks heating up in anger, and she hurried away from the door, not wanting to hear anymore.

* * *

"I'm just so glad that they're getting along," Imrahil said to Isindil. "They're just like sisters, Lothíriel and Éowyn. And I daresay that Faramir's really happy about that too. I knew that Éowyn and Lothíriel would be able to understand each other, but I have to admit that I did have some doubts when Lothíriel seemed so unhappy about coming to Edoras."

"Everything's all right now, then."

* * *

"I think we should return to Dol Amroth soon, Éomer," Imrahil said after breakfast.

"But you've only been here for a few days!" Éomer protested.

"I've left my country too long, and it's time that I return to take charge of matters once more," Imrahil replied.

Éomer nodded. "All right, then. When are you planning to leave?"

"We'll prepare for the journey today, and I suppose we will be ready to leave tomorrow morning. I must confess that I long to see my country again. The last time I returned it was only for a day, to bring Lothíriel to Rohan."

Lothíriel sat in silence, fuming.

* * *

Lothíriel looked over suspiciously at Imrahil and Éomer speaking in a corner of the hall, and turned to Faramir and Éowyn. "Come, let's go riding again!"

Imrahil and Éomer fell silent as they walked past. _Plotting something?_ Lothíriel thought to herself. At that moment she felt like screaming at them both, but she swallowed her anger once more, and followed behind Faramir and Éowyn to the stables.

* * *

Lothíriel looked out over the plains of Rohan, the grass rippling in the breeze. Faramir and Éowyn had ridden off a distance away, and Lothíriel had no intention of trying to catch up with them yet. Perhaps she just needed to have some time alone to think things through.

"I have never seen my sister so happy," someone said from behind her.

Lothíriel almost fell off her horse. She turned to see Éomer smiling at her, holding onto the reins of his stallion, and dismounted immediately. "You startled me," she said sharply, recalling her anger.

Éomer frowned. "I had no intention of doing so, and I'm sorry I did. I just thought that since you're returning home tomorrow, I would at least join you today. I'm sorry I wasn't able to join you yesterday."

"I was all right yesterday," Lothíriel said coolly. "Riding is truly a lovely thing to do."

Éomer cleared his throat. "I… I noticed that you did not seem too happy at breakfast today, when your father said that you would be returning to Dol Amroth. I spoke with him… and… you would be most welcome to stay on a little longer, if you're reluctant to leave Rohan."

Something in Lothíriel snapped. _The nerve!_ She spun around to face him. "I wish you would not jump to conclusions, my Lord Éomer! Just because I was not smiling through the whole breakfast does _not_ mean that I want to stay in Rohan! In fact, I am most pleased that I am going home! I simply cannot wait to get away from sneaky, conniving kings!" She mounted her stallion and rode away from him, not bothering to look back.

* * *

Éomer stared after Lothíriel, too stunned to think about chasing after her. _What on earth have I done?_ He could find no answer to that question; he thought that he had treated her with utmost respect.

Frowning, he stroked his horse's mane. _Perhaps she needs some time to cool down?_ _Women are really strange creatures._

* * *

"Goodbye, cousin," Faramir said, giving Lothíriel a hug. "It's been good to see you again. One day you must come to Ithilien to visit us."

"I will… someday," Lothíriel promised. Then she went to give Éowyn a hug. "You settle down in Minas Tirith well when you get there, Éowyn, it's a beautiful city; and when you go to Ithilien, I will visit you there." Then she went to stand next to Isindil, behind her father.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Imrahil was saying to Éomer.

"Not at all, it was my pleasure, and my honour, to have you as guests. Have a good journey back to Dol Amroth, and may we see each other once more in times of peace," Éomer replied smiling. His gaze then fell to Lothíriel. "Goodbye, my lady, and may you have a good journey back home."

Lothíriel nodded coolly and went to her horse. Yesterday, after her outburst, Éomer had not chased after her to apologise, and for some reason, that only made her angrier.

She did not look back as they rode away. _Good riddance_, she thought.

* * *

"Lothíriel?"

"Come in, Father," Lothíriel called. Imrahil nodded and entered. He needed to speak with his daughter; she had behaved most strangely in Rohan.

"I just wanted to speak with you, daughter."

Lothíriel raised an eyebrow. "What about, Father?"

Imrahil cleared his throat. _How do I say this?_ "Well… I noticed that you were… not yourself in Rohan. Is everything all right?"

Lothíriel's gaze turned icy all of a sudden. _She certainly didn't inherit that from me_, Imrahil thought to himself. _Though that gaze would be rather useful for governing countries._ "I behaved exactly as a person insulted would behave, Father."

"Insulted?" Imrahil thought that he had braced himself for all sorts of replies, but he had obviously thought wrong. "How could you be insulted?"

"I don't know, but I suppose finding out that your own father is planning to marry you off to the new king of Rohan could have that effect." Lothíriel actually glared at him, but Imrahil was too stunned to get angry.

"What do you mean, Lothíriel?"

"Aren't you going to admit it?" Lothíriel asked, standing up. "I've heard you and Isindil speak about it! You wanted to marry me to Éomer!"

Imrahil stared at his daughter, wide-eyed. Then a smile spread across his face, and he began to laugh. "Oh, my daughter… you couldn't have believed that… why would you…" he gasped helplessly. "That's simply ridiculous…"

"Ridiculous? Then what was it that you were doing in Rohan? You seemed to trying to _make_ Éomer like me!"

"What's wrong with a father being proud of his daughter? I was just giving you the praise you deserve." Imrahil managed to stop his laughing. "Listen to me, Lothíriel. I would never force you to marry anyone. I would never, ever do that to you, all right?"

"You wouldn't?" Lothíriel looked at him, surprised.

"Never," Imrahil confirmed.

"Oh."

* * *

The waves crashed against the sides of the cliff, and Lothíriel smiled at the sight. It was wonderful to be home. The journey back to Dol Amroth had been much like the journey to Rohan: uneventful, except for one revelation.

Lothíriel frowned, remembering the revelation of the journey home. She had spent the rest of the journey feeling incredibly embarrassed, and the fact that her father and Isindil could not look at her without bursting into laughter did not help at all. Then she had spent the past three days at home wondering what to do about it. _I really _must_ do something. I can't just pretend it didn't happen!_ She told herself that time and again, despite wishing that she _could_ pretend that it had never happened. However, it was too big a mistake to ignore.

_And I treated Éomer so terribly!_ Her cheeks turned red at the thought, and turned even redder when she recalled her outburst. _He must have been so shocked by my behaviour!_

She looked down at the paper she had brought out with her, and the quill she was holding in her hand. _Write and apologise_, she ordered herself. _You owe him that._ She sighed and began to write.__


	5. Letters

My dearest darling computer has always found the most "appropriate" situations to break down in, and this is definitely no exception. So now my computer is in the shop, together with my stash of HTML codes, my photos, my MSN icons, and the half-written chapter 5 of this story. I don't know whether I'll see them again. Oh dearie me.  
Anyway, that's why I'm re-writing chapter 5. I've received a lot of reviews (I was scared by the amount of emails I saw in my inbox!) and so I want to say thanks and I've also taken some comments into consideration and will be attempting to improve in this chapter. But please be a little forgiving since I'm using my mum's laptop and it's on my computer table and because of fittings and stuff, I'm typing with my arms straight out which is not only uncomfortable and painful, but also very inspiration-killing.

* * *

Chapter 5 : Letters

* * *

My Lord Éomer,  
We had a very uneventful and safe journey back to Dol Amroth, and so you need not have any worries. I would also like to thank you for your hospitality while we were in Rohan. But that is not the purpose of my writing to you.  
I would like to apologise for my behaviour while I was in your country, especially for what I said to you on that last day. It was not my place to say so, and furthermore, I did not mean a word of what I had said. You see, there was a misunderstanding between my father and I. I had overheard him speaking with someone and had jumped to wild conclusions, and you were made a victim of my foolish behaviour. Therefore I hope that you will no longer be offended or insulted by my behaviour, and will be willing to forgive me.  
Many apologies once more,  
Lothíriel

Éomer looked up at the messenger sent from Dol Amroth, then re-read the letter, wondering if this was all a dream. The messenger confirmed that it was reality by clearing his throat as politely as possible in inquiring if there was to be a reply.

"You've travelled far, my good man," Éomer said, smiling. "Go now and rest, and find yourself a hot meal, and the reply will be passed to you after I've written it."

The messenger bowed and hurried off on his way to obey instructions. Éomer crossed the hall and sat down at the table, reading the letter yet again. _Well, perhaps women aren't as strange as I thought_, he finally conceded. He reached across the table for some paper and the quill that Faramir had left the night before (sometimes he wondered if his brother-in-law wrote books instead of letters), and began to write his reply. After many crossing-outs and changes of paper, he finally wrote a reply that he was reasonably satisfied with.

Lady Lothíriel,  
I am most glad to receive word from you, and also to hear that you are all safely back in Dol Amroth.  
I accept your many apologies. Misunderstandings are certainly not uncommon, and I have been guilty of them before. Thus I can safely say to you that I am neither offended nor insulted by your words. In fact, I am delighted that you did not mean a word of what you said; I had begun to worry about my people's feelings over having a sneaky, conniving king. Thank goodness now you have revealed that you do not think me one.  
I shall be going to the Westfold tomorrow morning, and Éowyn and Faramir will begin their journey to Minas Tirith. She does not yet know that you have sent word, but I am sure that she will be most relieved to hear that you are safely at home.  
Sincerely,  
Éomer

He read the letter again before folding it, wondering if he had used too familiar a tone. Then he just shrugged to himself and went off in search for an envelope (despite leaving out a stack of paper, ink, and a quill, Faramir had somehow neglected to leave out some envelopes).

* * *

Éowyn stood by the flag of the Rohirrim, looking out over her country, her home. Or at least, it was today. Now that she was married to Faramir, Gondor would eventually become her country and her home. But she would never forget her life in Rohan, and never forget her love for this country.

"You'll miss Rohan when you're gone, won't you?"

She turned and smiled at her brother. "That goes without saying, Éomer. But I'll be back to visit, don't you worry. You can't be rid of me so easily."

"Oh dear." Éomer laughed, coming to stand beside her. "Anyway… I'll miss you when you go tomorrow, sister."

Éowyn nodded. "I'll miss you too, just like I will miss seeing this country everyday. But Faramir says that Emyn Arnen is very beautiful, and when everything is made ready for us there, it will be one of the most beautiful places on Middle-earth. Then you must come to see us. I made Lothíriel promise that she would."

Éomer cleared his throat. "Speaking of Lothíriel, I just received word from her today. She says that they had a very good journey home and everyone's fine in Dol Amroth now."

"That's good," Éowyn remarked. "That day, when we were riding, she just left. After you came, I noticed. What did you do to make her angry? You must send your apologies."

"Well, actually, she sent her apologies… that's the main reason of why she wrote. But should I have said that I was sorry as well? Oh… I didn't write that in my reply…" Éomer frowned.

Éowyn watched her brother curiously. He seemed so worried, so confused, so much like a little child trying to make up his mind about something. That thought amused her so much that she could not help but laugh.

Éomer's frown deepened. "What's so funny?"

"Does Lothíriel confuse you so, my brother?" Éowyn gasped out amid peals of laughter. "You look so worried!"

Éomer just stared at his sister, still not comprehending what it was that was so amusing. Then he sighed. "Women are _such_ strange creatures!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "They just can't make _anything_ clear and simple!"

* * *

Lothíriel sat down on her bed, and opened the envelope carefully. She read the letter, and then read it again, then heaved a sigh of relief. _At least he forgives me!_ That was definitely good news. She had been so worried that he would think all girls from Dol Amroth were uncouth, rude creatures, which was very far from the truth indeed.

She thought back about his behaviour towards her in Rohan. He had been friendly, and kind, and she had just been so cold to him, thinking that he had had an ulterior motive. Even now as she thought of it, a blush crept into her cheeks. It was most embarrassing indeed.

Éowyn had insisted that Lothíriel made the journey to Ithilien once she and Faramir were settled in, and Lothíriel had been giving that some thought, reluctant as she was to leave Dol Amroth for somewhere foreign _again_. But now she almost looked forward to it. Éomer would probably be there, and this time she could get to know him without trying to force herself to dislike him. _It would probably be most enjoyable_, she told herself.

And this was the very first time Lothíriel decided to leave her own country without needing her father's coaxing.__


	6. Arrival at Emyn Arnen

My computer is still at the shop, but I should be able to get it back today. I hope. Everything's been wiped out, though, so I have really lost EVERYTHING. Extremely sad.

To Medea Smyke: I think they did use envelopes, but sealed with sealing wax instead of our fantastic self-adhesive goo thingys. That's what they showed in the movie, anyway… Gandalf and Frodo put the Ring into an envelope.

To the rest: Thanks for all your reviews!

In this chapter I will include Lothíriel's brothers (Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos). I can't find much information about them in the books (they're not even listed in the Index) and I only got a teensy bit of info about them online, so I only know that Elphir is the eldest. The rest of the info I had to make up.

* * *

Chapter 6 : Arrival at Emyn Arnen

* * *

2 months later (from the last chapter)…

* * *

Lothíriel entered her father's hall, and quietly took her place at the table. Her three older brothers, Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos were already seated at the table, as was her father. As usual, the seat next to her father was left empty. No one ever sat there. It was their mother's seat, and would always be.

"Faramir has sent word," Imrahil said as they ate. "Everything is ready in Emyn Arnen, and he invites us to spend some time there."

"Will you be going to Emyn Arnen then, Father?" Elphir asked. Being the eldest, if Imrahil left Dol Amroth, Elphir would be in charge again. _Not that that would be a problem_, Lothíriel thought. Elphir was always responsible, cool-headed… everything a good ruler needed to be.

Imrahil shook his head. "No, I just returned to Dol Amroth not long ago. I have no wish to leave it again. Elphir, perhaps you could go with your brothers?" Erchirion and Amrothos were not only brothers, but the best of friends, and inseparable. Since they never created much (serious) trouble together, no one ever thought to try to separate them.

Lothíriel had been sitting in silence, thinking, but now she spoke up. "I could go with Elphir, Father."

Everyone went silent, and four pairs of eyes turned to Lothíriel. She looked down at her bowl. "Éowyn would be glad to see me…"

"Did my sister just _volunteer _to leave the country?" Erchirion asked incredulously.

"I think she just did," Amrothos agreed.

"Are you feeling all right, Lothíriel?" the two brothers asked teasingly.

Elphir cut in, seeing Lothíriel turning redder by the second. "That's enough, the two of you. I see no harm in Lothíriel going to Emyn Arnen, Father, and I would be glad to bring her with me."

Imrahil smiled, and nodded. "Very well, then."

* * *

Lothíriel stood next to Elphir two days later, looking on at the dozen soldiers that were going to be with them on the journey to Ithilien. "Do we really need that many soldiers, brother? Ithilien can't be dangerous."

Elphir laughed. "I think they are there more for the appearance of things than for fighting. Don't you worry about danger, sister."

"I'm not worried about danger," Lothíriel retorted. "If there's danger, I could swing a sword as well as you!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Lothíriel," Elphir said, chuckling. "Also, there is a big difference between swinging a sword and actually killing someone with it. But there won't be any need for you to be doing any swinging or any killing on this journey. Sorry if that disappoints."

Lothíriel mounted her stallion. "It doesn't disappoint at all, my dear brother. I was just saying that I could do it if I had to."

"All right. But just to make clear, and be free of your wrath… I would just like to tell you that I am under no orders and have no intentions of marrying you off to anyone in Emyn Arnen." Elphir winked, and rode off before Lothíriel could attempt to drag him off his horse, or scratch him, or anything of that sort.

"I knew I shouldn't have told him," Lothíriel muttered under her breath, riding off after her brother.

* * *

A few days later… (A/N: Not exactly very sure how long it takes to get from Dol Amroth to Ithilien on horseback.)

* * *

"My Lord, your guests from Dol Amroth are here."

Faramir looked up from his book. "Thank you, Beregond. Could you please inform the Lady Éowyn of their arrival as well? I think she is looking over the condition of the stables yet again."

Beregond and Faramir shared a smile. Éowyn seemed more concerned over the state of the stables than the state of the kitchen, to the great amusement of the men, and the great horror of the elder women. Faramir wouldn't have had it any other way, though. It wouldn't have been the Éowyn he fell in love with if she had suddenly spent all her days occupied with the matters of the kitchen, and weaving and knitting.

Faramir put his book down, taking note of the page, and then left the room.

Elphir and Lothíriel were waiting in the hall. Faramir approached them with a huge smile on his face, and embraced his two cousins. "It's so good to see you again!" he said. "Lothíriel, I'm surprised to see you once more! I was under the impression that it was easier to face an army of Orcs than to get you to leave Dol Amroth!"

Elphir laughed as Lothíriel reddened. "For some strange reason, she volunteered to leave home this time."

"I'm most eager to see your wife again, cousin," Lothíriel explained.

"And so am I!" Éowyn entered the hall, and gave Lothíriel a hug. "You have truly kept to your promise, Lothíriel!"

"I did say I would visit you, didn't I?" Lothíriel replied pleasantly, evidently glad to see Éowyn again. "You must show me around." She turned to the two men. "Could we please be excused to look around?"

Faramir smiled. "I don't see why not. You're most welcome to treat Emyn Arnen as your own home, and come and go as you please."

The two women began to walk away, and as they left the hall, Faramir overheard Éowyn saying, "Oh, I really must show you the stables, I attended to it personally…"

"The stables?" Elphir asked with one eyebrow raised. "Most women I meet begin with the kitchens!"

"Éowyn isn't 'most women', Elphir. That's why I married her."

Elphir laughed and agreed. "If I knew that earlier, I would have joined my sister on her private tour of the area."

Faramir clapped his cousin on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about that, cousin. I will show you around as well. We could always start with the kitchens, if that's what you want."

* * *

"Will King Elessar be coming to Emyn Arnen?" Lothíriel asked. "I've never met him before."

"Yes, he will be coming," Éowyn replied. "But he might come later, he has plenty to deal with in his own city." She glanced at Lothíriel as they walked along. "My brother should be arriving today, though. He left Rohan later than you and your brother left Dol Amroth."

"Oh, all right."

"I do hope you've forgiven him for whatever happened in Rohan. Sometimes my brother can offend people without even knowing what he has done."

Lothíriel shook her head. "No, it was all my fault. Some silly misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? What misunderstanding?"

"I'm still too embarrassed to tell you. But one day I will tell you about it, and then we can all look back on that time and laugh."

* * *

Éowyn left Lothíriel after showing her around, and Lothíriel wandered about Emyn Arnen alone. It was truly a beautiful place, and with time it could blossom and become even lovelier.

Her thoughts then turned to Éomer. He would be arriving soon, and she would have to speak with him. She wondered what she could possibly say.

But above all, she was just looking forward to seeing him again.


	7. Quiet Talk

**Chapter 7 : Quiet Talk**

* * *

"Éomer!"

Éomer turned to catch his sister in his arms, and gave her a hug. "Hello, Éowyn. It's so good to see you, sister." He released Éowyn to shake Faramir's hand. "Good to see you too, Prince."

"Don't call me that, it sounds strange," Faramir said. "Come, you might want to rest and wash before dinner."

"Yes, of course. Can't go for dinner as the dusty traveller I am now, can I?" Éomer agreed. "Who is already in Ithilien, anyway? Is Aragorn here yet?"

Éowyn shook her head. "The king isn't here yet, but we expect that he will be arriving soon. Perhaps in a day or two. Right now there's Gimli and Legolas…"

"My cousin Elphir and his sister Lothíriel," Faramir finished.

Éomer nodded. _So Lothíriel has come to Emyn Arnen…_ He wondered what he should say to her, and whether it would be best to pretend that nothing had happened between them, to save Lothíriel from embarrassment.

Lost in his thoughts, he followed his sister and brother-in-law to the room they had prepared for him.

* * *

Lothíriel entered the hall, where the table was already set for dinner. She took her place next to Elphir, and found herself sitting opposite a handsome young man with long blonde hair and blue eyes. He nodded at her in acknowledgement and she realised that he was no Man, but an Elf. And she started to see that next to him was seated a dwarf with a very thick brown beard. _It must be Legolas and Gimli, Father told me about them._

"So, how is your father?" Gimli was asking Elphir.

"Very well, thank you for asking. He would have come to Ithilien personally, but felt that he had spent too much time out of Dol Amroth. Which is why he sent me, and my sister Lothíriel."

Legolas smiled at Lothíriel. "How do you find Ithilien, Lady Lothíriel?"

"I've only been here a day, but I must admit that it is very beautiful. Everything that Faramir told me about Emyn Arnen I finally see to be true, and more besides. Ithilien could be one of the most beautiful places on Middle-earth, with care," Lothíriel replied, in the most polite tone she could muster. It was no common occasion to be in the company of an Elf, and Lothíriel was in awe of Legolas, of whom her father had spoken of highly.

Legolas nodded in agreement, please. "Yes, that is what I feel as well. Elves are coming to Ithilien. Not to Emyn Arnen, this area is for Men, but we Elves will dwell in Ithilien, and together Ithilien will blossom."

"It would be wonderful to have Elves in Ithilien, my lord," Elphir said eagerly.

"And Dwarves in the Glittering Caves," Legolas said, clapping his best friend Gimli on the shoulder.

"Good times have returned once more," Gimli agreed.

The conversation broke when Faramir and Éowyn entered the room. Behind them came a tall young man, and Lothíriel saw that it was Éomer. Everyone stood up to greet him. "Wonderful to see you again, King Éomer," Gimli said warmly, pumping Éomer's hand up and down most enthusiastically.

"My friend, you will wrench his arm off!" Legolas remarked, laughing.

"Yes, please, Gimli, spare my arm. I have great need of it," Éomer joked.

Elphir shook the hand that Éomer just extracted from Gimli's grasp. "Good to see you, my lord. My father sends his best regards," he said.

Éomer nodded in acknowledgement and returned the greeting, then turned to Lothíriel. A smile spread across his face as he spoke. "I'm delighted to see you here, Lady Lothíriel. Your father told me that it never was easy to get you to leave your home, and so I had almost lost hope in seeing you again."

Lothíriel blushed, flattered that Éomer had wanted to see her again. "I promised your sister that I would come to visit her in her new home, my lord, and I always keep my promises."

"I'm glad you do."

Éowyn laughed. "Come, let's not just stand around saying nice things to each other! This is supposed to be a dinner, let's all just get settled down and fill ourselves."

To that, no one had any argument, and so everyone took their places again, and dinner was served.

* * *

After dinner, Elphir declared that he was exhausted, and went to bed. Lothíriel, however, was not in the least tired, and went walking around Emyn Arnen with Legolas.

"What is it like, living next to the Sea?" Legolas asked.

Lothíriel was a little taken aback by the look of eagerness on Legolas' face. It made him look a curious child, burning with a thousand questions for an adult. It was so ironic; to Legolas, Lothíriel was probably nothing but a baby. But she knew how to answer his question, and answer it she did, without any hesitation. "The Sea is simply beautiful. It can calm you whenever you're feeling troubled. I spend most of my time sitting on a cliff looking out to sea. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world." She looked at him questioningly. "Have you never seen the Sea?"

Legolas sighed. "I have heard the call of the gulls."

Lothíriel kept silent. She did not understand exactly what it was like for the Elf to feel the longing he did for the sea. "I don't suppose your longing can be understood by Men," she said out loud.

Legolas nodded. "I don't suppose it can," he said. "Well, I will keep it to myself for now, I suppose. There is much on Middle-earth that will claim my attention." He looked up at the sky. "It's getting rather dark, and I think I will retire for today. Would you like me to accompany you back to your room?" he asked.

Lothíriel smiled at him and shook her head. "Thank you, my lord, but I think I will stay out here for a little longer. I'm not tired; and I think the air will do me some good."

Legolas nodded and bid her goodnight. Lothíriel watched as he walked away from her, then sat down on the ground, leaning against the stone steps leading up to the hall. She closed her eyes, feeling the cool night air around her. _Come to think of it, I _am_ a little tired…_ she thought to herself. But she did not want to go into her room. She wanted to be out here, enjoying the refreshing coolness of the air.

"It's a beautiful night, is it not?"

Lothíriel's flew open. She knew that voice now. "My lord Éomer!" she said, starting to get up.

Éomer held up a hand. "Please, sit. You don't have to stand up to greet me every time you see me, you know." He sat down next to her as she settled down again. "Ithilien is lovely. I can see that Éowyn will be very happy here."

"You really care about her, don't you?" Lothíriel remarked.

"Of course I do. She's my closest kin. It's been just the two of us for such a long time, it's a little strange to adapt now."

"Just the two of you?"

"My father was cut down by Orcs when I was eleven, and my mother passed away from grief shortly after. My uncle took Éowyn and I in, and treated us like his own, and of course we had Théodred, the best cousin I could have ever asked for. But my sister and I, it still felt like all we had were each other. We've been taking care of each other for such a long time."

Lothíriel marvelled at how much Éomer loved his sister, marvelled at how a hardened warrior like he could be so tender at the same time. "Must have been difficult for the both of you to lose both your parents. And I thought that it was hard for me to lose my mother. At least I still have Father. I don't know what I would do if I was left alone in this world."

"It was difficult for Éowyn and I, but I'm sure that doesn't make it less difficult for you to lose your mother," Éomer said seriously. "My uncle told me once that it's different for everyone when we lose a loved one, and I believe that it's true. Tell me about your mother. She must have been a remarkable woman."

"She was," Lothíriel remarked, nodding. "She was wonderful. I don't think anyone ever knew me better. We were so close, like best friends; we did almost everything together. She loved all her children, of course, but I suppose that being the only daughter brought us closer together." She sighed. "It was almost impossible to comfort me when she died. Erchirion and Amrothos had each other, as usual, and my father and Elphir spent a lot of time together, trying to forget what we had all just lost by dealing with the country's business with more than the usual fervour, and I was kind of left alone."

"Must have been lonely."

"It was."

They lapsed into silence, and Lothíriel leaned her head against the stone again. Everything was so peaceful and quiet, and drowsily she felt sleep claim her.


	8. A Budding Friendship

I have finally got my computer back. Everything has been erased and I'm going to have a lot of installing to do but I think I will attend to my fiction first.

_To __LOTR-nutcase: I know, but wouldn't you? ;0)_

* * *

**Chapter 8 : A Budding Friendship**

* * *

Lothíriel opened her eyes and stared up at the white ceiling. She sat up in bed, at first not remembering where she was. She looked around and saw that she was in her room in Emyn Arnen. _Why don't I remember coming in here last night?_ She frowned, then realised that it was because she had not entered her room the night before. _I must have fallen asleep outside last night._

* * *

Lothíriel was early for breakfast this time, and the hall was still empty, except for the servant girls who were setting the table. Lothíriel greeted them and left them to their work. She left the hall and went to the library, which Éowyn had revealed to be Faramir's pride and joy. _No wonder_, Lothíriel thought to herself as she looked upon the shelves and shelves of books. _It looks as if Faramir had all the books of Minas Tirith moved over to Ithilien!_

She wandered about the library, looking for a book, and noticed a man sitting behind one of the tables, seemingly engrossed with a book. Smiling, she approached, and took a seat opposite him. "You certainly don't need much sleep, do you, my lord Éomer?"

Éomer looked up from his book, a little startled. He grinned at her. "Good morning, my lady."

Lothíriel made a face. "That sounds so strange, 'my lady'. It makes me sound so… so… _old_. Why don't you just call me Lothíriel?"

"All right, Lothíriel, but what makes you think that 'my lord' sounds much better?" Éomer chuckled and turned back to his book.

"Fine, then I'll just call you Éomer. That's all right, isn't it?"

"You certainly are chirpy this morning," Éomer remarked.

"That's what happens when I get a very good night's sleep. Which reminds me, I really have to thank you for bringing me back to my room last night. It _was_ you, wasn't it?"

Éomer shrugged. "Well, I couldn't possibly leave you sleeping outside, could I? Your brother would probably kill me." He closed his book. "Come on, I think it's time for breakfast now."

* * *

Éomer ate his breakfast in silence, as he always did. He had always thought breakfast a good time to keep silent and just do nothing but eat and think. Lothíriel and Elphir spoke merrily, though, after a good night's sleep.

"Do you have a headache today?" Lothíriel asked Elphir cheekily.

"No, why do you ask?"

"You seem to have slept for such a long time, I thought perhaps you were drunk from last night."

Everyone laughed, Elphir included. "Sister, let me assure you, I hold my ale better than you think."

"Then you must challenge Gimli to a drinking game. My friend here seems to have that down to an art. I don't suppose many can beat him at that game," Legolas said with a grin. "I admit that I lost to him once before."

Lothíriel giggled at the thought of a drunken elf, and Éomer gave up on thinking, and turned his attentions to all that talk that was going on.

"No, I dare not participate in drinking games," Elphir was saying. "I can hold my ale rather well, but not well enough to have the courage to challenge anyone."

"Come on, brother, I won't tell anyone in Dol Amroth!" Lothíriel urged.

Elphir shot Éomer a glance, as if begging him to change the subject, or do something, to divert his sister's attention. Éomer grinned and spoke up. "I remember some people who can out-drink Gimli," he said. "The four Hobbits of the Shire were very good. Especially Merry and Pippin."

"Peregrin Took of the Shire! Even I dare not challenge that fellow," Gimli chortled. "He treats ale like tea, that young rascal!"

"Hobbits of the Shire?" Lothíriel questioned, interested. "My father mentioned something of hobbits, but he didn't say much."

"Then we will tell you, but slowly," Faramir said. "There is much to tell, especially from Legolas and Gimli, I expect. After all, they _have_ travelled from Rivendell with the Hobbits."

The conversation then turned to the hobbits. Lothíriel (the only one who had never seen a hobbit before) listened eagerly, her breakfast all but forgotten. At that moment she seemed radiant and lovely, and Éomer thought to himself how wonderful it was that they were friends now.

* * *

Faramir took Lothíriel's hand after breakfast. "Come, Lothíriel, I want to show you something. You'll love it, I promise."

She followed him to a part of Emyn Arnen some distance away from the houses, and down a path. "You are the first civilian to walk this way without being blindfolded," he told her. "The Rangers of Ithilien used this as a hideout during the War of the Ring, and before that. Now that we're here in Emyn Arnen, I don't suppose we're going to need it as a hideout that much anymore."

He led her into what seemed to be a cavern. Lothíriel looked around curiously, then gasped as she went further in, when she realised that they were behind a waterfall. Water came down like a curtain, a beautiful gossamer curtain. She stretched out her arm, breaking the flow of the water, and smiled. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Yes, I did think that you would like it." Faramir looked around with a strange sort of pride. "At first, when my father made me Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, I felt like he was simply trying to be rid of me, to get me as far away from Minas Tirith as he possibly could without sending me into exile. But then I saw this place, and I felt glad that I was sent away from Minas Tirith. I always managed to find some form of peace here, even in the most troubled times. And I thought that I would share this with you."

"Can I show this to anyone else?"

"You may, but don't go showing it to too many people, cousin. This place is special."

Lothíriel nodded. "I understand."

* * *

Faramir and Lothíriel left the hideout after an hour, and were walking back when Beregond came hurrying up to them. "My lord Faramir!" he said breathlessly, bowing. "My lady Lothíriel. A rider from King Elessar has arrived. The King will be in Emyn Arnen in about an hour."

"Well, he certainly is earlier than expected," Faramir said, taking Lothíriel's hand. "Come, we must get ready for his arrival. We must hurry."


	9. Elessar's Arrival

_To LOTR-nutcase: Great minds do think alike, don't they? ;0)_

_To Lossenrhos: I got the drinking game idea from a scene that was cut out of RotK. I hope Peter Jackson puts it back into the extended edition, it was rather amusing and really showed the change in the relationship between Legolas and Gimli._

_I just realised I named the last chapter "Chapter 10", when it's actually Chapter 8. Now why on earth would I do that? Must have been nuts yesterday. I'll be replacing that chapter, but nothing's gonna change except that number. Sorry 'bout that._

* * *

**Chapter 9 : Elessar's Arrival**

* * *

Éowyn was waiting for her husband and Lothíriel at the doors of the hall. She had changed her dress, and was wearing a tiara (the last time she had bothered with one was at her wedding). "I've laid out your clothes on the bed," she told Faramir.

Faramir grinned and gave his wife a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you." Then he disappeared into the hall, hurrying to their room.

Éowyn took Lothíriel's hand. "Come, I'll help you. It's always so much more trouble for women, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Lothíriel agreed. "I've never understood why we women have to bother with so many things when all the men seem to do is change a cloak."

"I suppose since women have to do dirtier work than men, we have all become accustomed to spending more time cleaning up," Éowyn said as they walked along.

"Men have to fight wars," Lothíriel pointed out.

Éowyn grinned. "I've fought in a war. Of course, they didn't know it was me until the end. Killing orcs is a nasty business, to be sure, but gutting fish and bleeding chickens isn't much more pleasant. Or clean."

The two women laughed as they hurried along the hallway and entered Lothíriel's room.

Éowyn opened the cupboard and Lothíriel picked out her best dress. It was red, made from the best silk, and looked wonderful with Lothíriel's dark brown hair and eyes. But that was not the reason Lothíriel thought of it as her best dress.

She held the dress, and said to Éowyn, "This was my mother's dress."

Éowyn smiled. "It's a beautiful dress. Come, put it on, and I'll do your hair for you."

* * *

Elphir was just leaving his room when Lothíriel and Éowyn came out. He looked his sister up and down and grinned. "You're looking very nice," he remarked, offering his arm.

Lothíriel took her brother's arm and they walked along the hallway, Éowyn hurrying off in front to meet her husband. "Same to you, brother."

"Well, we must look our best for our King."

Lothíriel agreed just as they stepped out of the hall, and took their places next to Faramir and Éowyn.

The party was in sight now, and were moving rather quickly, but Lothíriel still could not see the faces of the travellers. Legolas could, though. "Queen Arwen is with them," he said, pleasantly surprised. "She is riding side by side with Aragorn."

Eventually, the party got close enough so that Lothíriel could see the riders for herself. She gasped to see the Queen of Gondor, the elf-maiden Arwen. She had heard so much of her from her father and brothers, heard of her remarkable beauty, but had not really believed it then. But now she saw that the Queen was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

The riders rode up to the steps and then dismounted. Faramir and Éowyn went down to greet them, and they came up the steps together. Legolas and Gimli stepped up to greet King Elessar warmly, the three of them having become the best of friends since the War of the Ring. Elphir shook hands with the king, having ridden with his father and brothers to war with him before.

"King Elessar, this is my sister, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth." Elphir motioned for Lothíriel to step forward to be introduced, and Lothíriel bowed before the king.

Aragorn took her hands in his and gave her a warm smile. "What a lovely sister you have, Elphir," he remarked. Then he said to her, "You must take after your mother."

"That she does," Faramir agreed, and Lothíriel blushed. Her mother had been the most beautiful woman in Dol Amroth (or so her family thought), and it was a great compliment to be told that she looked like her.

* * *

They entered the hall, the men talking together, and the women speaking softly.

"Ithilien is a beautiful place, Lady Éowyn. I'm sure you and your husband will take good care of it," Queen Arwen said with a little smile.

"Of course we will do our best, my lady. And Legolas is very excited about making Ithilien the most beautiful place on Middle-earth," Éowyn replied.

Lothíriel kept silent, not knowing what to say. She had nothing of importance to say, and therefore just hovered behind Arwen and Éowyn.

* * *

By the time of the celebratory feast, Lothíriel could see why her father didn't ask her to come to Emyn Arnen in the first place. With the arrival of King Elessar, the men were always having their own conversations, and Éowyn and Arwen, having been married not too long ago, shared some common ground for little chats. However, Lothíriel, being the youngest of the group, and consequently not being in charge of anything, or having anything fascinating to add to the conversation, just kept silent and ate her meal. She looked from her seat to the other benches set out in the hall for the people, and wondered if the soldiers of Dol Amroth would be any more exciting than those sitting next to her.

After everyone had eaten their fill, the food was cleared away, and a group of people took up their instruments and began to play, filling the hall with upbeat, lively music. A cheer went up among the people, and some even began to dance. The hall was filled with life and joy, something that would warm every heart.

Smiling to herself, Lothíriel stayed in her seat as the rest went to join the crowd, watching the dancing couples, and clapping along to the music. _It's nice to be here after all_, she thought. _But it is a little lonely_.

"All by yourself again?" Éomer asked with a smile, taking the seat next to her. "You were quiet during the meal; what's the matter?"

Lothíriel shrugged, drawing circles on the table with her finger. "I don't know. I just didn't know what to say. Éowyn was speaking with the Arwen and the rest of you were talking politics and all those other things that I have no idea about. I just didn't know when to join in."

"Sorry you felt left out," Éomer said sincerely. Then he grinned. "Well, I'm not talking politics now, and so I shall make it my personal business to make sure that you are not left out any longer."

Lothíriel grinned right back. "Thank you, my good man. Your attention is most appreciated."

Éomer grabbed Lothíriel's hand. "Come, I'm sure dancing will lighten up this day for you."


	10. A Silly Girl's Thoughts

**Chapter 10 : A Silly Girl's Thoughts**

* * *

Lothíriel looked around her room, trying to see if there was anything she had forgotten. She and Elphir would begin their journey back to Dol Amroth the next morning, after two weeks spent in Emyn Arnen.

After she was satisfied that she had everything packed, she left her room for a last look around Ithilien. She had grown to love it, the beauty, the quiet, the peace, and she willingly admitted to herself that she would be rather sorry to leave.

The sun was just about to set, a flame burning in the sky, about to be extinguished. It cast an ethereal orange glow over the land, and the view simply took Lothíriel's breath away. She stood at the top of the steps, motionless, just taking it all in.

"It's so beautiful," she said softly when someone came to stand beside her.

"Yes, yes it is," Éomer agreed. "You are returning to Dol Amroth tomorrow morning?"

Lothíriel nodded. "And you?"

"I'll be staying for a day longer. I must confess that I don't really want to leave my sister. It's been… different… without her in Rohan. Even though we did have our quarrels sometimes, for some reason I thought that she would be around forever, always there for me to bicker with, and to make me look a complete fool, and to help me take care of things." Éomer sighed. "But she'll be happy here, as I said before."

Lothíriel looked out again, the sun almost meeting the earth. "Yes, Éowyn will be happy here. And my cousin loves her very, very much, it's clear to anyone. They will be happy, and so will all the people here. Life will be like a dream, a very pleasant dream, all in a golden haze."

Éomer laughed. "That was very poetic, my lady."

Lothíriel reached out and took his hand. "Come I want to show you something."

* * *

Lothíriel led Éomer down a path, and said over her shoulder, "Faramir showed me this place when I arrived. I've come back here a few times in these two weeks, and I thought that I would show it to you just before I left." She gestured to a hole in the rock. "That leads to a cavern behind the falls, and Faramir brought me there. But I found a way down, down to the pool."

They went down a slightly rockier path, and stopped just before the pool Lothíriel was speaking of. Éomer looked around in amazement. The orange sunlight spilled over the rock and into the pool, and everything seemed to be glowing. "A golden haze indeed," he said with a smile.

"I'll miss this place when I get home."

"I thought such beauty was only possible in paintings, but now I see this before me…" Éomer trailed off, lost for words. "Well, thank you, for showing me this."

"You're welcome."

Lothíriel smiled up at him, her face close. He could see the light reflected in her eyes, and saw her beauty illuminated in the warm glow of the sunset.

He smiled back, then turned to look around him once more. "Thank you, again, I must say it. Éowyn never showed me this, and I'm her brother!" In the middle of all this loveliness, he felt himself relax, every muscle in his body loosened.

Which was why he was completely unprepared, and had swallowed a whole mouthful of water before he broke through the surface.

"What… what… what… was that for?" he sputtered, spitting out water.

Lothíriel laughed and winked at him. "I just… just thought I would do that," she said.

"You're wicked… you're really horrid, you know." Éomer pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, completely drenched.

"You were just thanking me a moment ago," Lothíriel teased. "I thought I wasn't strong enough to move you anyway, but just one push and in you went!"

Éomer could find no words to express himself, and settled for splashing as much water as he could on Lothíriel.

* * *

Lothíriel ran behind Éomer all the way back to their rooms. The sun had set, and it was getting cold. "If I get sick, it's going to be all your fault!" Éomer called back to her as they hurried down the hallway.

"I'm sure you're not that weak, Éomer! You're a warrior of Rohan, for goodness sake!" she said, unable to control her laughter.

Éomer muttered something, pushed open the door of his room, and slammed it shut, calling out a good night to Lothíriel. Lothíriel giggled to herself and kept on walking; her room was two doors away from his.

Elphir was just coming out of his room as Lothíriel reached her door. "Lothíriel!" he exclaimed. "You're drenched!" Grabbing her, he yanked her into his room, and picked up his cloak, throwing it about her. "What on earth have you been doing?" he demanded, rubbing her arms to make sure she got warm.

Lothíriel pushed him away. "I'm fine, brother, I'm not going to catch my death or anything," she protested. She giggled again. "You wouldn't call me drenched if you saw Éomer."

Elphir's eyes widened. "What have you done to Éomer?"

Lothíriel put on her most innocent look. "Nothing…" She caught the look Elphir gave her, and relented. "I pushed him into a pool."

"I thought only Erchirion and Amrothos did such things," Elphir said with a sigh. "What did you do that for? He's the King of Rohan!"

"He's a friend," Lothíriel argued, sitting down. "Relax, brother, he's not going to start a war or anything. In fact… I think he rather enjoyed it."

Elphir threw his arms up in defeat. Then he glanced at his sister, and grinned. "So… how wet is he?"

"Like a drowned rat. Actually I think he swallowed some water."

Their laughter rang in the room, brother and sister sharing a joke.

* * *

Lothíriel pulled the blanket up to her chin, but her eyes remained wide open. Her mind kept replaying the scenes at the pool, over and over again, unrelenting.

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't understand. Why did she keep seeing his face in her mind, just after he thanked her? Their faces were so close; she was staring straight into his eyes, and for the very first time it struck her that he was the most handsome man she had ever met. And why did that make things suddenly seem different? Why had she wanted to get even closer to him? She simply didn't understand what was happening to her.

She turned in bed, trying to block it out of her mind. _Just a silly girl's thoughts_, she told herself sternly.


	11. Riding At Night

_This is definitely not one of my better chapters. I had a sort of writer's block for this chapter and so it's not exactly very good compared to my other chapters. But I promise that I will try to write better ones after this!_

* * *

**Chapter 11 : Riding At Night**

* * *

"Come, let us go, Lothíriel."

Lothíriel gave Éowyn one more hug, and bowed to the king and queen. She gave Éomer another grin. "I suppose I'll see you sometime," she said.

Éomer nodded. "Depend upon it." He laughed. "This time I will be prepared for any… surprises. Good bye, Lothíriel."

As the party rode away, Lothíriel looked over her shoulder, not wanting to tear her gaze away from Éomer's shrinking form.

* * *

_One and a half months later…_

* * *

"Amrothos! Give that back!" Lothíriel yelled, running after her brother. Amrothos laughed and tossed the letter to Erchirion, who went off in the other direction. "Erchirion!"

Lothíriel chased her two brothers across the gardens, and the chase finally came to an end when Elphir came along, and snatched the letter out of Erchirion's hands. "Honestly, you're no longer children anymore," he chided. "Stop doing such childish things, for goodness sake." He gave Lothíriel a sideway glance. "I want to read it."

"Elphir!" Lothíriel complained, snatching the letter from him. "Not you too."

"I think that soon all the messengers in Dol Amroth are going to retire," Erchirion declared.

"Otherwise the horses will retire," Amrothos added. "Journeys to Rohan aren't the most fun, you know."

"Especially now that it's going to be wintertime."

Elphir cleared his throat. "That is why Father suggested that you go to stay in Rohan for awhile. Learn more about the people, look around the country… and stop having messengers running back and forth."

Lothíriel reddened. "Father said that?"

"Yes, he did. I just spoke with him, and was on my way to look for you. Isindil can go with you. What do you say to that, sister?"

"Well… that would be nice," Lothíriel admitted.

Erchirion hit Amrothos' arm. "Our sister just volunteered to leave the country _again_."

"I know, isn't that brilliant?"

Elphir wheeled round to face them. "You two, enough!" he commanded.

Erchirion and Amrothos sobered down immediately. "All right, brother."

Elphir nodded, satisfied. "That's right. Celebrations can only begin after she's left."

"ELPHIR!" Lothíriel was horrified.

* * *

_Some time (days) later… (A/N: Seriously I need to find out sometime how long it takes to get where.)_

* * *

"Oh no, not you again!" Éomer groaned.

Lothíriel punched him on the arm playfully. "It's not that bad to see me, is it?"

Éomer grinned. "No, it isn't. Welcome to Rohan again. So, you'll be spending the winter?"

"Yes I will. It's going to get too cold to go back to Dol Amroth, anyway."

"All right then. It's good to have a friend in Edoras." Éomer beckoned to a serving woman. "Please show the Lady Lothíriel to her room."

* * *

Lothíriel flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her heart had been pounding so loud when she was with Éomer that she had thought that she was about to die. Why? It made absolutely no sense; she had never felt that way before.

She turned over, burying her face in the pillow. Another most frustrating thing was that she couldn't decide if she wanted the feeling to go away. It confused her like nothing ever did before, but it made her feel strangely… happy.

"What is going on?" she moaned into the pillow. But there was no answer, of course.

* * *

"Thank you, Éothain. You may go now."

Éothain bowed and left the room, and Éomer was alone once more. He leant back in his chair. He had asked that the kitchen prepare something special, since Lothíriel was here to visit. It was nice to see Lothíriel. And it was probably a relief for the messengers of both places as well. For a month and a half messages had been flying back and forth, and not all were necessary filled with important news. In fact, most were just friendly correspondences, filled with almost no news at all. But Éomer enjoyed every single letter he received; looked forward to them, even. Sometimes he would just look out, just to see if any messenger was going to be seen riding to Edoras.

He stood up, having decided that perhaps he would put something else on for dinner, just to look more presentable. After all, he had a guest in Edoras now.

* * *

"So… how are you finding your food?"

Lothíriel gave Éomer a look. "Don't you have anything else better to say?" she teased. She had another spoonful of soup, and grinned at him. "It's rather good, why do you ask? Did you cook it yourself?"

Éomer looked at the soup wistfully. "I wish I could boast of that talent. It would come useful on my journeys around Rohan. Unfortunately, I have no skill in cooking."

"Well, you just have to learn, then," Lothíriel commented, tucking into her soup happily.

"And are you going to teach me?"

"I would do it for you," Lothíriel said seriously.

Éomer burst into laughter. "A princess of Dol Amroth for a cook? That is a most wonderful idea," he said with a wink.

Lothíriel laughed too. "Yes, yes I suppose it is," she replied, and then fell to her meal again.

* * *

"Have you ever gone riding at night?"

Lothíriel spun around to face him. "What?"

Éomer nodded out at the vast plains. "Riding at night. Éowyn and I used to do it a lot, when we were children." He smiled at Lothíriel. "Would you like to try it?"

"What's so different between riding at night and in the daytime?"

"There's a great deal of difference, princess. When you ride with the night air in your face… it's just different. And it's especially different when you see the sunrise."

"You mean to ride the _whole_ night? Don't you need any sleep?"

Éomer laughed. "I'm not an old man yet! I think I can deal with one night without sleep. Can you?"

A grin spread across Lothíriel's face. "You know I can."

They took some little necessities and fetched their horses from the stables, and after Éomer had a word with the guards, they were off. "You know, if you kept riding that way, you'd go into the Gap of Rohan, and then to the Misty Mountains," Éomer said, pointing.

"I've never been that far away from home," Lothíriel said. "Perhaps one day I shall go there, just to see things for myself."

"Perhaps indeed," Éomer agreed. "Now… let's see who's the fastest rider." Giving his stallion a kick, he was off.

"You're cheating!" Lothíriel yelled, urging her horse on after him.

The ride seem to go on and on, and Lothíriel felt like letting it go on forever, just to let her hair stream behind her in the wind, to let the cold air hit her face. But finally Éomer brought his horse to a halt, and Lothíriel followed suit. Éomer spread a blanket on the ground, and they both sat down on it. "So, did you like that?"

"Yes, of course I did. It felt wonderful," Lothíriel replied with a smile. "You said that you and Éowyn used to do it a lot… don't you do it anymore?"

"First there were other things to occupy us, and then I was thrown in jail. And now there isn't really any sense to be doing it by myself, is there?"

"I suppose not," Lothíriel said with a sigh. "You know, sometimes I wish I fought during the War of the Ring, just so I won't be so much an outsider now."

"What do you mean?"

"I just hear people thinking back, telling great tales of what they've experienced, and through all that I was in Dol Amroth."

"You had to take care of things."

"In name, yes I was supposed to be in charge. But I wasn't even twenty yet, and there wasn't really much to be taking care of. I didn't seem to be doing _anything_ but stay at home."

"And that was a great help to your father," Éomer said earnestly. "Knowing that you were safe, he could fight the war without being distracted by his worry for you."

"But I wanted to be fighting next to him!" Lothíriel exclaimed. "Isindil and Elphir taught me how to use a sword well enough, but I never had any occasion to use it. I could have been there. All my brothers were there."

"Wars aren't women's work…"

"Your sister fought in a war," Lothíriel argued. "And she came out of it all right after all, didn't she? I keep hearing all these tales and wishing that I was there."

"Well, I, for one, am glad you weren't there. Because something could have happened to you, and I might never have met you," Éomer said seriously.

That took Lothíriel's breath away, and she shivered in a strange delight. Éomer took it as a sign that she was cold, and took out another blanket to wrap around her.


	12. The Perfect Creature

_In the movie, they made Éothain that boy who alerted Edoras of the attacks in the Westfold. In the book (and also in this story), Éothain is a soldier under Éomer. So, since the movie borrowed Éothain for some other purpose, I will borrow Éothain's sister (in the movie) for my own purpose. Muahahahaha…_

* * *

**Chapter 12 : The Perfect Creature**

* * *

Lothíriel crept as silently as she could along the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone. She folded her cloak as she walked, not expecting there to be anyone to bump into.

Which was why she hit Isindil head-on without even seeing him.

He caught her in his arms, and pulled back, holding her at an arm's length. "Lothíriel!" he said in a tone that held a tinge of horror. He looked at the cloak in her hands, and her dress, which not only showed grass stains, but was also slightly damp from the frost of the winter morning. "Where have you been?"

"I went riding at night," she replied defensively. "I…"

"You mean you were out _all night_?" Now he was _really_ beginning to sound horrified.

"No! I mean… yes. But I wasn't alone! Éomer was with me," Lothíriel said, thinking that Isindil would relax if he heard that she was with the King of Rohan.

He didn't.

"Out all night alone with a man!" Isindil's face was beginning to turn red, and his tone was beginning to rise. Lothíriel considered asking him to quieten down, but gave up on that idea just as quickly as she thought of it. "Lothíriel, what would your father say if he knew!"

"You needn't tell him, if you're so afraid," Lothíriel retorted. "And anyway, nothing happened. We just went riding and saw the sunrise. It's what he used to do with his sister. Besides, I heard you say yourself that Éomer's a good man. Surely you can trust him with me?"

Isindil released his grip on Lothíriel, shaking his head. "One day you will be the death of me, princess," he muttered, and then went on his way again, leaving Lothíriel free to return to her room and get at least an hour's sleep before breakfast.

* * *

"My Lord Éomer?"

Éomer turned to see Isindil behind him. "Oh, Isindil. What may I do for you?" he asked politely. Isindil was no prince, no lord, but he was still the most trusted friend of Prince Imrahil, and that gave him a good standing wherever he was. Besides, he was also Lothíriel's chaperone on this visit.

"I bumped into the princess not too long ago. She… she spent the whole night out?" Isindil sounded uncertain, as if he had no idea how to go about the issue.

"Ah. Yes, she did. I was with her, though, and no harm came over her. I'm sorry I didn't speak with you about it first. It was done on impulse, and I shouldn't have asked her along," Éomer apologised. _I should have spoken with him first. If anything had happened to Lothíriel, he would have been held responsible… but what could happen to Lothíriel? I would never let her get hurt._

"Yes, perhaps you should have spoken with me about it first," Isindil said thoughtfully. Then he smiled. "But that's all right; no harm has come over her. And I came to thank you."

"Thank me?" Éomer frowned, not understanding. "Why is there a need to thank me? Come, let us sit down, there's no use standing around the middle of the hall."

Isindil gave his assent. "There is need to thank you," he continued, once they were seated, "because of the change you have brought to the princess."

"Change? That _I_ have brought? I cannot say that I understand."

Isindil leaned forward to speak. "Princess Lothíriel… I've known her since she was a babe. I've seen her grow up, taught her things, accompanied her on journeys… she is like a daughter to me. And her father and I used to worry that she would be afraid of change forever. After her mother died, Lothíriel… she changed. She no longer wanted to leave Dol Amroth, she no longer wanted to see, or try, or do anything different. She just wanted to live a quiet life in Dol Amroth. To get her to leave the city, even for a little while, was next to impossible. She was trying to back out of her first journey to Rohan even as we mounted our horses. But she's changed now, after she left Rohan that time. First she volunteered to go to Ithilien, and now she came to Rohan with no need for any coaxing. In fact, she seemed quite happy to come. You have no idea how relieved her father is from this change in his daughter."

"Relieved? Why?"

Isindil sighed. "Prince Imrahil would never make his daughter do anything against her wishes, but everyone expects that as she gets older, she will one day have to marry. The Prince was worried that if she was to keep to herself her whole life, if she was to just spend every day of her life hovering about in her father's house, she would never marry, never learn how it is to fall in love." He looked at Éomer significantly. "Which is why he is also relieved that you and the princess get along so well, my Lord."

_Get along so well…_ Éomer's eyes widened when he realised what Isindil was suggesting. He gave a little laugh. "Sir, Lothíriel and I are good friends, yes, that I admit willingly. Lothíriel, in her own way, reminds me of my sister Éowyn. They're both spirited, lively, and they bring such light to the lives of the people they meet. And I confess that I do love Lothíriel, but I have never had any thought of marry her. She is to me just another sister. I have never thought about her as anything more."

Isindil nodded in understanding, and they left the subject behind.

* * *

"Let's go riding at night again!" Lothíriel suggested excitedly as they strolled about the city after breakfast. "It was fun last night."

"But you were caught this morning by Isindil, I understand," Éomer said dryly. "He wasn't very pleased, I should think."

"Did he talk to you and say that I couldn't go riding again?" Lothíriel asked, looking crestfallen. "He worries too much, you know. Especially when my father isn't around. It's as if he's afraid that I'd just suddenly drop dead before his eyes."

"That's because he'll be held responsible if anything happens to you," Éomer said gently. "I don't suppose we should go riding about at night again, not so soon. And the next time we do, we should probably speak to him about it first, or ask him along."

"Oh all…" Lothíriel began, but was cut off when a kerchief was blown over by the wind, and all but blinded her. Éomer grabbed the kerchief to let her regain her sight. "Where did _that_ come from?" Lothíriel demanded.

Éomer was spared from having to answer her (not that he knew the answer himself), because Éothain rushed up to them, with a very pretty woman hurrying behind them. "My lord Éomer! My lady Lothíriel!" he gasped. "I'm so, so sorry… the wind was so strong it just blew away…"

"I'm so sorry," the woman cut in. "The wind, it just blew away my kerchief. Oh… oh how embarrassing!" She was completely red, too, leaving no room for doubt that she _was_ embarrassed.

Lothíriel smiled as Éomer returned her kerchief. "It's all right. It could have happened to anyone."

Éomer nodded to the woman. "Yes, it's perfectly all right. I don't suppose we have met?"

"My lord, this is my sister, Freda," Éothain said. "She just came from the Westfold two weeks ago. You _have_ met her before, but a very long time ago, I don't suppose you remember…"

"Freda!" Éomer exclaimed. "Of course I remember. Why, it really _has_ been a very long time. Almost ten years, I believe."

Freda bowed her head. "Actually, it _has_ been ten years, my lord. I'm flattered that you still remember. How have you been, my lord?"

"Very good," Éomer replied happily. "I definitely can't find anything to complain about. And you? I was in the Westfold a few months ago, but I did not see you."

"Life in the Westfold was simple and peaceful, but I decided to come to Edoras, after my mother died. I live with Éothain now," Freda replied politely. Lothíriel was impressed. Freda was not only pretty with her long blond hair and hazel eyes, but she was also well mannered and friendly. And submissive and all those other ladylike things.

"I'm so sorry to hear of your mother. But at least you aren't alone here in Edoras. Éothain, you and your sister _must_ dine with us at dinner tonight. It would be most pleasant," Éomer said gallantly.

Éothain and Freda were absolutely delighted, and agreed at once. Then they went on their way, and Lothíriel and Éomer on theirs.

"Well, I never thought that I would see Freda again," Éomer said to Lothíriel. "I only saw her once when she came to Edoras to visit Éothain. She was only fifteen then. My, it _is_ good to see her again."

"I'm sure it is," Lothíriel replied absently. Something was stirring in her, something else that she didn't understand. She didn't know what to make of it, but it seemed like she wished that they hadn't bumped into Freda at all. She wished that Freda wasn't such a lovely person.

* * *

Dinner was a most pleasant affair. Éothain and Freda were there, and Lothíriel, and Isindil had joined them as well. Pleasant conversations went back and forth over the dinner table, and Freda proved to be a most interesting character. She had a way of telling things that made life in the Westfold seem to be filled with adventures.

"The way you put it, Freda, makes me want to move to the Westfold," Éomer said cheerfully.

Freda blushed again, and bowed her head once more. "You flatter me, my lord. I'm not _that_ good a speaker."

"Oh yes you are," Éomer insisted. "When Éothain told me about life in the Westfold, it was all I could do not to fall asleep!"

"He's not lying," Éothain admitted.

Freda laughed, a delicate tinkling melody that just made Éomer smile.

"You're not the only one who wants to move to the Westfold now, King Éomer," Isindil said. "I myself would like to venture there and see it with my own eyes!"

Freda laughed again, flattered to receive yet another compliment.

* * *

_Dinner had been a most horrid affair_, Lothíriel thought to herself as she hurried back to her room. She had sat in silence the whole time, toying with her food and eating little, watching as Freda entertained everyone. It was plain that everyone loved Freda, she was such a perfect creature. Polite, docile, delicate, friendly, interesting, entertaining, beautiful, graceful… the list of good qualities the woman possessed could go on and on forever! And what irked Lothíriel the most was that she quite liked Freda herself.

As she slammed the door shut and stalked over to sit on her bed, she realised with some horror what she felt. _I'm jealous of Freda!_ And it was true, as much as she didn't want to believe it. She was very, _very_ jealous of Freda, because Freda was so perfect, and because everyone paid so much attention to her. _Especially… especially Éomer._


	13. Going Home

_To Lossenrhos : Yes I agree with you. Freda is so irritating because you can hardly find anything wrong with her that she seems fake. At least that's what I think._

_To Celebrimiel Hirilaure : Yeah Freda is just a kid in the movie. But so was Éothain, although he's a grown man in the book. =0)_

* * *

**Chapter 13 : Going Home**

* * *

_Three weeks later…_

* * *

Lothíriel walked beside Isindil, looking at Éomer and Freda walking ahead of them, laughing in the sunlight. "Isindil?"

"Yes?"

"I miss home." Lothíriel hesitated, then went on. "I was wondering… could we go home?"

Isindil looked at her in surprise. "Why? It's only been three weeks. And it's starting to get into winter proper. The nights are going to begin to be too cold on be on the road. I think it's best to stay till winter is over, like we planned."

Lothíriel sighed. "All right, then. We'll stay." But she eyed the couple before them with displeasure.

* * *

Éomer laughed at the witty joke that Freda had just made. "That's very clever," he said with a grin. "I never expected you to know such an amusing joke."

Freda smiled. "It's always handy to have some secrets, my lord, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would indeed," Éomer said willingly. He had seen Freda everyday for three weeks, and they had gone on walks like this every time. They never seemed to lack subjects to talk about, and Éomer enjoyed these walks immensely. Of course, they would never, or perhaps could never, have such wild fun like he could with Lothíriel, but being with Freda brought a nice sort of calm. _And she _is_ pretty_, he thought. _Not beautiful like Lothíriel, but pretty in her own unique way_.

A shadow passed over his face as he thought of Lothíriel. She had been… different… recently. She was still up for rides at night, and still enjoyed teasing him, but somehow she was also quieter. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he just could not help feeling that she was not herself, and could not help wondering what it was that was bothering her.

"My lord? What is the matter?"

Éomer snapped back to reality, and gave Freda a warm smile. "Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking about Lothíriel. She seems different of late. I don't know what's troubling her."

Freda looked behind them, where Lothíriel was speaking with Isindil. "Well, perhaps she just misses her home, my lord. Dol Amroth _is_ very far away, after all."

"Yes, maybe she does," Éomer agreed absently. But something told him that homesickness wasn't the real problem.

* * *

Lothíriel hugged her knees to her chest, sitting on top of a little knoll she found while riding. The sun's last rays would soon disappear behind the horizon, but she didn't care. Staring over the openness of the vast plains, she sighed. Things were certainly not going as she thought.

The past three weeks had been awful for her. Freda was around every single day, and she was perfect every single day. Everyday Lothíriel felt barbaric when she was next to her. Everyday she watched Éomer and Freda go on their walks, and feared that one day Éomer would realise how imperfect she was, and how Freda left her behind on all aspects, and he would decide that he no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Everyday she had that feeling that she was losing him, and all she could do was watch helplessly as he slipped away from her.

Around her everything grew darker as the sun continued its descending journey, yielding to the moon, but Lothíriel refused to return to Edoras. She had not gone for dinner, but Isindil would probably be the only one who noticed. _Freda would probably be at dinner, entertaining Éomer again_, she thought darkly.

With a sigh, she lay down on the grass, closing her eyes to the vanishing sun.

* * *

Éomer bade Freda good night, then made his way to Lothíriel's room. He had missed her at dinner. She had never missed dinner before, and it worried him. Was she ill? He quickened his pace, until he reached her door. Knocking, he called for her. "Lothíriel, are you in there?"

There was no response. Éomer frowned. Where could she possibly be?

* * *

"Lothíriel?"

Lothíriel opened her eyes, and looked up to see Isindil kneeling over her, a look of concern on his face. She sat up from the grass. _I must have fallen asleep…_ Rubbing her eyes, she said, "I'm all right, I'm all right." The sun had gone down completely now, and the moon was high in the sky.

"Thank goodness I found you, Lothíriel," Isindil said, wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. "Come, let's go back to Edoras, where there's a good, steady fire going."

Lothíriel shook her hand, clinging to Isindil's arm. "No, I don't want to go back yet."

Isindil sat down next to her. "You haven't been yourself lately," he said. "What is it?"

Lothíriel pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders. "I don't really know what's wrong. I don't know," she whispered.

"Éomer?"

Lothíriel gave Isindil a look of surprise, and he smiled, brushing her hair out of her face. "I watched you grow up, princess. Come, you can tell me anything."

"I don't understand what's happening to me," Lothíriel sighed. "I just love spending time with him because I feel happy when we're together. He's… he's different from everyone else."

Isindil chuckled. "Of course he's different from everyone else. You've never been in love with anyone else."

"In love?" Lothíriel raised her eyes to look at Isindil. "No… no, that can't be!" But she knew that it was. Isindil had got it right once more.

"Princess, love is different for everyone, but there is always one part that is the same. And that one part is that the person you are in love with makes you happier than anyone you've ever known, and you want to spend time with that person, no matter whether you should or should not."

Lothíriel sighed again. "Well, I don't think it's a mutual feeling anyway. It hurts to see him spending time with Freda."

Isindil said nothing for the longest time, and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Lothíriel was about to ask him what he was thinking about when his voice sounded in the dark again. "If you really want to, we could go home. But not immediately. I ask for at least a week to make sure we have everything necessary for this journey in the cold."

"Oh, thank you, Isindil!"

Isindil stood up, pulling her up with him. "Come, let's get out of the cold and go back to Edoras."

* * *

_Two days later…_

* * *

"Leaving next week?" Éomer frowned. "But… but why?"

Lothíriel bit her lip, searching for an excuse. "I miss home," she lied. "I've never spent too much time away from home, and spending the whole winter just sounds… I don't know… scary." _Especially if Freda is around._

"Scary?" Éomer grinned. "Am I scary to you?"

"No, but… well… I just want to go home."


	14. The Confrontation

_For the rest of the weekend I won't be able to use my computer because I will be having a sort of last minute holiday before school reopens, and my exams start on the 28th of June and end only on the 7th of July and therefore I might not be online any more for a very long time after today. Therefore I will try to be writing more and posting up my stuff. I also have a new fanfic (for Love Actually) that I will put up. If you like Love Actually, it would be nice if you would read it! Thanks!_

* * *

**Chapter 14 : The Confrontation**

* * *

_A week later…_

* * *

Lothíriel put her last dress into the trunk. There. Everything was packed. She would be ready to leave tomorrow. She sat down on her bed, closing her eyes to the cold wind that came in through the window. Home. Somehow the thought brought no happiness either. There would be questions, people would wonder what had happened. And she just didn't feel like talking to anyone, not yet. She just wanted some peace and quiet until she could forget about Éomer, forget that she had ever met him, forget that she had ever seen his face.

There was a knock on her door, and Lothíriel dragged herself over to answer it.

Éomer stood outside, and he smiled when she opened the door. Despite her current mood, just seeing him smile filled her heart with warmth, and she felt like throwing her arms around him just while he was standing there (without Freda).

"I thought you would be in your room. Since you're leaving tomorrow… I was just wondering if you would like to go riding. Ah… not now, though, I have a meeting with the captains, but in three hours, perhaps? I could meet you at the city gates after I'm done with the meeting and changed into something more suitable for riding and everything."

Looking at Éomer's face, Lothíriel simply could not refuse.

* * *

Éomer left the meeting a little relieved. Everything had been dealt with, everything was under control, and so far nothing was going wrong. Everyone was happy with the arrangements. And now, done with the day's work, he could finally relax properly. He hummed a cheerful tune as he made his way to the stables.

"My lord Éomer!"

He turned to see Freda coming towards him, smiling. "Hello," he said, grinning.

"You are in high spirits, my lord," Freda remarked, falling into step with him.

"Ah, yes, that I am. I've just finished with my kingly duties for today, and I'm just about to go riding with Lothíriel. It's her last day in Rohan, after all. She'll be returning to Dol Amroth tomorrow morning."

"Travelling during the winter?" Freda frowned. "Is that wise?"

Éomer shrugged. "I couldn't dissuade her. She's stubborn as a mule when she makes up her mind about something. Oh well, she will be well taken care of."

Freda was silent for awhile, then smiled and said, "She has been kind to me since we met. I would like to say goodbye to her. Could I join you, please?"

Éomer thought for a moment. Riding was something that Lothíriel and he always did together, just the two of them, and it had become something special. But Freda was a lovely woman as well, and she just wanted to say goodbye, after all. It wasn't as if he was betraying anything, was he? "I don't see what's wrong if you join us. All right then," he agreed.

* * *

Lothíriel stood by the city gates, waiting. She smiled when she saw Éomer coming into sight, but her smile faded away when she realised that he was not alone. She stood motionless as the two approached her.

"Good afternoon, my lady Lothíriel," Freda said, bowing.

"I met Freda on the way to the stables, and she said that she wanted to come along, just to say goodbye to you, and join us for the ride. I thought that would be all right."

"It's all right," Lothíriel echoed. _What else can I say? You've already asked the woman_. "Let's go, shall we?" She mounted, and was off, not bothering to wait for Éomer, and especially not Freda.

A good rider, Éomer caught up soon enough, but Freda was not as skilled, and they eventually had to slow down to wait for her. "You are a skilled rider, my lady," Freda said breathlessly when she caught up.

"Thank you," Lothíriel replied curtly.

"I wish you didn't have to go home tomorrow," Éomer remarked. "It would have been lovely to have you stay three months like you were planning to."

_It would, would it?_ Lothíriel thought sarcastically. But instead she laughed and said, "Well, you already have perfect company in Rohan. Perhaps it would be good for me to return to Dol Amroth and find myself a companion as desirable as Freda."

"You flatter me, my lady."

"Well, so many people do, I thought I would just join in the fun."

* * *

The rest of the ride went by quickly, with Lothíriel and Éomer speaking as they always did, or Lothíriel trying to be as mean as she possibly could to Freda. At times she would feel guilty, for being so horrible to such a perfectly polite creature, but the moment Éomer and Freda began talking, she would get jealous and angry all over again.

She rode ahead in silence all the way back to Edoras, fuming, as Éomer and Freda talked, and stormed up the steps to the hall. She wheeled around, waiting for Éomer to come up the steps. She had a feeling that he was in for something that had never happened to another person before.

Freda was saying something to him, and he was laughing. Their voices were carried away by the wind, and strain as she could, Lothíriel could not hear what they were saying. Then Freda reached out and touched his arm, and before Lothíriel could even believe it, she shyly gave him a kiss on his cheek before slipping away, on her way home.

By the time Éomer reached the top step, Lothíriel expected that she was beginning to look like Mount Doom when the Ring was cast into the fire. Had it been her imagination, or had Freda given her a glance before kissing Éomer?

He saw her face, and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"What was that?"

"What? The kiss?" Éomer shrugged. "I don't know; she never did that before."

The fact that he took it so lightly made her even angrier, although she hadn't been able to believe that it was possible. Without a word, she stormed into the hall, slamming the doors behind her with a strength she didn't realise she had. The bang was still echoing in the hall when Éomer opened the doors again and entered after her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "What was that about?" he demanded.

_That's it._ Lothíriel exploded. "Why on earth had you asked her to come riding with us? I thought it was something special that the two of us did!"

"I didn't think it would matter so much… she just wanted to say goodbye, Lothíriel."

"Well, she could have said it tomorrow, like everyone else!"

"Listen to me, Lothíriel…"

"No! You listen to me!" Lothíriel yelled. She stopped, breathing heavily, a lump forming in her throat. "I hate her," she finally choked out.

"Lothíriel…"

She cut him off. "I'm not finished. I hate her, I hate her because she's so lovely, because she's so matured and polite and sweet and caring and friendly and ladylike. I hate her because she's everything I'm not. And I especially hate her because you like her so much."

Éomer's eyes widened. "Lothíriel, what are you saying…?"

Tears stung her eyes as she looked at him pleadingly. "Have you never thought that maybe… maybe I could make you as happy as Freda does?" She shook her head. "I know you miss Éowyn, but you can't use me as a replacement for your sister, no matter how similar we are. The thing is, I'm just not Éowyn, and there's nothing you can do about it. And I don't want to be your sister. I don't… I can't… I love you too much."

She turned and fled before he could say another word, leaving him standing there, stunned and motionless.

* * *

She paced about her room restlessly, almost blinded by her tears. She wiped them away from time to time, but they kept coming, and it seemed as if they would never stop. She looked around her, looked at the four walls. _I can't stay here_, she thought. She thought of Dol Amroth, of the sea, but for once it brought no comfort. _I can't go home, either. I just want to be alone._

Impulsively, she made up her mind, and choked back the rest of her tears. Then she washed her face and dried it, taking deep breaths to calm down. Standing tall, she left her room and went to the kitchens.

The cooks were all busy preparing dinner, but the head cook came over and dropped a little curtsey to Lothíriel when she entered. "How may I help you, my lady?"

"Hello, Alanna. I was just wondering if it wouldn't be too much trouble if you could pack a simple meal for me. I'm going riding with Isindil instead of dinner this evening, and I was hoping you could let me have some food? We'll probably have a picnic."

Alanna raised an eyebrow. "A picnic in winter, my lady? Would you not think that a bowl of hot stew eaten indoors would be a much better choice?"

Lothíriel forced a laugh. "Perhaps, but having a picnic in winter is so much more an adventure! So could you allow me to take some food, please?"

Alanna bowed. "Of course, my lady! You may help yourself to whatever you want, there is no lack in the kitchens."

"I know. You are a wonderful head cook, Alanna."

The woman beamed, positively preening at the compliment. Lothíriel returned her smile, then accepted the basket a kitchen girl passed to her, and began to fill the basket with bread and cheese and other types of dried food. _Good, these will last for awhile_, she thought to herself.

When she had what she thought was enough, she nodded to Alanna and left the kitchen with many thanks. Once out of the kitchen, though, she hurried on her way back to her room, taking the back route that Éomer had shown her once, hoping that she would not bang into anyone. Luckily, she did not see anyone.

She locked the door of her room and opened her trunk. She changed into another riding dress, and picked up the leather bag she had left on the chair. Wrapping the food up in a blanket so that it would be easier to carry, she managed to fit it into the bag. Next went in another blanket, and some flint she always carried around with her. Her water flask she tied to the bag. At the belt of her riding dress she slipped the dagger Elphir had given to her when she was sixteen, for protection. Then she sat down on the bed. All there was left to do was wait.

* * *

Dinnertime came by fast enough. She heard Isindil leaving his room, and waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps. Then she picked up her things, and opened the door. There was no one in the hallway. Good. She slipped out of her room, and hurried out through the back door once more. Once outside, she began to run, and did not stop till she reached the stables.

"Come, Elenion, we're going for an adventure," she whispered to her stallion.

She met a couple of guards while leading her stallion out, but they simply bowed and smiled; it was known that the Lady Lothíriel loved riding, and was eccentric, enjoying rides in the dark and cold. She smiled back and walked on, her head held high, not betraying anything.

The guards standing at the gates bowed. "Going out riding alone, my lady?" one asked.

"Yes, I thought that it would be a nice thing to do on my last night here. Something to remember," she said with a smile. "I even brought some food along with me. If anyone asks, just tell them that I've gone riding, and will be back later."

"Of course, my lady, but we'll be changing shifts in awhile."

"Oh. That's all right, then. I don't think anything will happen to me, anyway. Thank you." She nodded to them, mounted, and rode out of the gates for the second time that day.

The full moon was not yet at its peak, but it provided enough illumination for Lothíriel to look around. _Where to go?_ Then she remembered Éomer pointing out the way to the Misty Mountains. _I've never seen the mountains. Why not?_ She urged Elenion on, and they went flying over the lands.


	15. Danger

_I apologise for not giving Lothíriel's horse a name earlier. Such a fine animal deserved more. But oh well, he has a name now. Girly, but still a nice name._

* * *

**Chapter 15 : Danger **

* * *

Lothíriel did not turn up for dinner. Éomer sat in silence, lost in his thoughts. He ran through in his mind everything that Lothíriel had said to him, word by word, over and over again. He couldn't believe how much a fool he had been, to have spent so much time with Lothíriel, and to have remained blind to all her feelings. Unwittingly, he had hurt her, and that had always been the last thing that he had ever wanted to do. It was his fault, and she had every right to be angry with him. He would first allow her time to cool down, perhaps even to cry all her tears (the very thought of having made Lothíriel cry wrenched his heart), and after dinner he would go to her room to apologise.

_But other than apologies, what else can I offer her? Do I love her like she hopes?_ He frowned down at his bowl, unable to find the answer. He had always thought that he loved her as a sister, but seeing her cry today brought a new feeling stirring in him, something he had never felt, something he had never known, not even when he had been comforting Éowyn in their childhood. One thing he knew: he could not, would not, lead Lothíriel on if he was unclear about how he truly felt about her. _I will not allow myself to ever hurt her again._

To Éomer, dinner went by in a blur. After dinner, everyone went back to their rooms, Isindil and the guards of Dol Amroth to get their rest for the long journey ahead the next day, but Éomer lingered in the halls, pondering over what to say to Lothíriel. He wanted to have everything thought out before he saw her face. He could not afford to say anything wrong, or put anything the wrong way, or he could break her heart. If he hadn't done so already.

"My lord Éomer?"

He whirled round once Lothíriel's voice reached his ears, but only saw that in his thoughts, he had mistaken Freda's voice for Lothíriel's. "Yes, Freda?" he asked, a little wearied.

"I noticed that the Lady Lothíriel was a little… displeased… over my presence today, and I thought that I would come to apologise to her before she left tomorrow," Freda said meekly, her head bowed.

Éomer cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah… Lothíriel did not come to dinner tonight. Perhaps she is getting her rest for tomorrow's long journey. Why don't you come bid her goodbye tomorrow morning?" He turned back to his thoughts, trying to find the best ways to phrase his words. _Oh Valar, this must be the most difficult thing I've ever had to do!_

"My lord?"

He jumped when he realised that Freda was right in front of him now. "Yes, Freda?"

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I have to admit, my lord, that I told a lie just now. I did not come to apologise to Lady Lothíriel… I came to see you."

Éomer took a step back. _Oh Valar, did you have to pour everything on my head all at once?_ "Excuse me?"

Freda took a step forward, a blush coming to her cheeks. "I… I kissed you earlier today, and I simply must confess. I had been yearning, longing, to do that for a great many days, and now that I have done so, I admit that I would like to do so again." She smiled shyly at him. "You have been kind to me, my lord, and I…"

"Freda." Éomer cut her off as gently as he could, taking her by the shoulders. "I am flattered, I most definitely am, that you think me worthy of your affections."

A smile broke across Freda's face, and if not for Éomer's hands on her shoulders, she would have come even closer. "Oh, my lord…"

Éomer cut her off again. "However," he began firmly, "though you offer me your love freely, I simply cannot accept it. I am very sorry, but I simply cannot. Freda, you have been a wonderful companion, but I see you as nothing more as a friend, do you understand?" He released her, and took a step back again. "I'm very sorry, Freda, but… perhaps you should leave now?"

Freda stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath, nodded, and left the hall.

Éomer stared after her for a while, feeling a little guilty for having to have rejected her so firmly, but he knew that he had done the right thing. Freda was a good friend, but she could not possibly make him happy.

Giving up on his confusing thoughts, he made his way to Lothíriel's room, with little heed to anything else. He knocked on her door. "Lothíriel? Lothíriel? It's me, Éomer."

There was no answer, and so he knocked again. "Lothíriel? Please, would you open the door? I want to apologise."

Still no answer. Éomer was about to knock again when Isindil opened his door, and beckoned him away from Lothíriel's door. "Perhaps we could leave her one night to cool down. She wouldn't answer when I knocked either," he said.

"You know of what happened?" Éomer asked, a little surprised. He thought that no one knew.

"I saw the two of you at the entrance of the hall today, from some distance away. I could just guess what it was all about," Isindil said, letting Éomer into his room. "It can't possibly be very easy for the princess. She is young still. Perhaps one night would be sufficient."

Éomer put his head in his hands. "You know how she feels, then?"

Isindil nodded. "I spoke with her a week ago about it. She had wanted to leave then, and I agreed, but asked for a week. I was hoping that in this week something would happen, but obviously nothing very good has, has it? And so perhaps it would be for the best if we left tomorrow anyway."

"I'm so sorry."

Isindil laughed. "Forgive me for speaking so to the King of Rohan, my lord, but you are young as well! There is nothing to be sorry for; love isn't something that can be controlled. It is no one's fault, and I suppose the princess must learn how to deal with rejection, since it's no uncommon thing."

"I didn't reject her," Éomer mumbled.

"Pardon, sir?"

"I didn't reject her," Éomer repeated. "I just stood there, like I was made of wood."

Isindil coughed. "Well then, that makes some difference, doesn't it? And were you planning to reject her after you apologised?"

"I didn't think about that," Éomer admitted. "The truth is, I had absolutely no idea what to say to her. I… I… ah… I just rejected Freda, though."

Isindil raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Well I suppose _that_ would have pleased Lothíriel a little. But not much, if you weren't going to offer her what she hopes for."

Éomer made a vexed sound. "I have absolutely no idea what I was going to offer her. What I _can_ offer her. I don't want to risk hurting her again."

"Risks are necessary most of the time," Isindil said quietly. Then he stood up. "But since we're going to leave the princess a night of quiet, you have one night to mull over it, don't you?"

Éomer stood up as well, and nodded. "Yes, yes I suppose I do. One long sleepless night."

* * *

The moon provided a little light, but not very much, and Lothíriel knew that soon she would have to stop for the night, at least to give Elenion a little rest. They had covered a good distance already, Elenion deserved to rest. But where could they stop? There was nothing but the rolling plains in all directions.

Finally, Lothíriel sighed and pulled on her horse's reins. _Well, I suppose the middle of nowhere is as good as place as any._ She dismounted and pulled out the blanket. Laying it on the ground, she sat down on it, pulling her cloak tight against her for warmth. What had not expected, though, was for Elenion to get down on the ground next to her. She smiled and rested her head on his back. "You're a good friend, Elenion," she said to the stallion. "A very good friend."

She slept little, drifting in and out of consciousness in the cold night.

* * *

"Lothíriel? Don't you at least want some breakfast before we're on our way?" Isindil gave the door three sharp raps. "Lothíriel? Are you still asleep?" It was a silly question to ask, of course, but he was beginning to worry a little. After five minutes of deadly silence, he finally gave up on knocking and simply slammed the door open.

The room was beautifully clean and neat. The bed was made, and Lothíriel's clothes lay in her trunk. Her cloak was missing, however, and so was her leather bag. Panic began to wheedle its way into Isindil's heart as his mind registered the implications. _She can't have…_

"What…?"

Isindil turned to face Éomer, who was gaping at the empty room. Very calmly, he said, "My lord, I'm afraid that the princess of Dol Amroth has run away."

* * *

Éomer sat on Lothíriel's bed. "How… how could she?"

Isindil shook his head. "I suppose she wasn't even in her room last night."

Éothain came to the doorway. "You called for me, my lord?"

Éomer stood up. "Yes, I did. Check with all the guards on duty yesterday, if they've seen the Princess of Dol Amroth leave the city alone. Find out, if you can, when she left and which direction she went. Then report to me immediately."

Éothain, sensing his king's panic, nodded and left immediately to carry out his orders. Éomer began to pace about the room. How could he have been so stupid, not to suspect anything? Where could Lothíriel possibly be? She didn't know the land, she could get lost. It was winter, it was cold at night. Did she have enough blankets? How could she keep warm? Did she have enough food? What if she got lost? What if her horse broke a leg? Did she even take her horse? Well, she must have. But that didn't help much. How far could she have ridden? What if she was hurt, alone, out there, and no one was there to help?

He slammed his fist against the door, and stalked out of the room. "I must find her," he declared.

"Don't do anything too rash," Isindil warned, hurrying behind him.

"Yes, I know, but we must find her! She doesn't know these lands, it could well be dangerous for her."

Éomer pushed the doors of the hall opened, and had not walked far when Éothain hurried up to him, accompanied by a guard, Sircyn. "My lord, he saw the princess leaving last night."

"What did she say, Sircyn, what did she say?" Éomer asked urgently.

"I was on duty with Halen last night, and the princess came with her horse and she said that she was just going to go riding, as a new experience before she left Rohan, my lord. She said she brought some food with her. She rode out, but then we had to change shifts, and we didn't notice which way she went. We didn't think she would go far, anyway, so we weren't really worried." Sircyn frowned. "I'm sorry, my lord, we should have…"

"You did your duty, Sircyn," Éomer said. "It's no one's fault." _Except mine._ "We'll find her and bring her back safe and sound. Éothain, send out search parties." He turned to Isindil. "I am in no position to order you around, sir, but you may join any search party you wish."

Isindil nodded. "I will muster my own men, and we will join your searches." He turned and went on his way.

* * *

Riding just seemed to go on and on and on and on, and Lothíriel had given up looking around for anything else. _But isn't this what you want? You're alone, at last._ She nodded to herself resolutely. Yes, this _was_ what she had been looking for. Solitude.

_I wonder if any of the search parties are out yet._ _Isindil must be so worried_, she thought, watching as the sun begun it's daily journey downwards once more. _Just me and silence,_ she thought to herself. But then she heard something else. The sound of horses. And it was not Elenion.

Turning around, she saw three men riding, and gaining on her. Unsure of whether to flee, or to wait till she could see who they were, she made no move to urge Elenion to gallop faster. _Who could they be?_

If she had really known, she would never have hesitated.

An arrow shot out from one of the men, and before she knew what had really happened, Elenion was down, and she had to scramble out of the way from being pinned under the stallion. Everything seemed to go by in the flash, and suddenly there were hands seizing her. Screaming and kicking, she managed to pull her dagger out from her belt, and stabbed someone in the foot. Then it all went black.


	16. Kidnapped

**Chapter 16 : Kidnapped**

* * *

Slowly, Lothíriel opened her eyes, frowning at the throbbing at the back of her head. _Where am I? _She looked down at the ropes that bound her hands and feet. _What happened?_

"At last you are awake."

Lothíriel turned her head to the direction of that hoarse voice, wincing when her head spun. He was sitting with two other men, eating. He looked like he was from Rohan, and looked familiar, but the other two men did not. "Where am I?" she demanded. "Who are you?"

The man approached her with a sneer. "Not too polite, are we?"

"Why should I polite if you're treating me in such a manner?" Lothíriel retorted. Then everything went blur and spotty as the man struck her across the face. Hard.

"You should be polite because you're all tied up, and we're not," he growled. "And that was also for what you did to my foot."

_So I _did_ stab him_, Lothíriel thought, not without satisfaction. "At least let me know a little of what is going on. If it hasn't occurred to you, this isn't a very natural way to find yourself when you wake up."

"It isn't indeed," the man agreed. "My name is Halen. And you have been kidnapped, princess." He smiled, which triggered Lothíriel's memory.

"You're that soldier! You were on duty when I left!" she gasped. "But how could you do something like that?"

Halen laughed, and gestured to his two friends. "My two Dunlending friends and I have some plans of our own. We've been finding ways to go about it, and must thank you, my lady, because you just made it so much easier."

"What plans?"

"There's no need for you to know."

"If I am going to be victim of those plans, you should at least have the decency to let me know what you want to do with me!" Lothíriel said angrily. Halen raised his arm again, as if to strike her, but Lothíriel just stared at him. "Strike me if you want, but when you are caught, you will have a fate that is worse than mine!"

Halen grinned at his two companions. "This princess has some spirit," he said. "Pretty too. Too bad those traits are so inconvenient at a time like this."

Lothíriel turned her face away, disgusted. _Someone will find me_, she told herself firmly. _Don't give way._

* * *

Éomer stood above the walls, staring out over the lands. _Where could Lothíriel have gone?_ He looked in every direction, trying to recall if he had ever told her anything that could have affected her decision.

_"You know, if you kept riding that way, you'd go into the Gap of Rohan, and then to the Misty Mountains__…"_

Éomer's eyes widened, and he all but ran down the steps, running through the city looking for Éothain. He found him having his lunch with Freda. "Éothain!"

"Yes, my lord?" Éothain stood up, looking in concern at his king's flustered face.

"Isindil left with his men yesterday, did he?"

Éothain nodded.

"Are you very good at tracking, Éothain?"

"Yes, he is, my lord, you can trust me on that," Freda said, keeping her eyes lowered, unable to look into his face.

At any other moment, Éomer would have felt most uncomfortable about that, but he did not care now. "Good. Then you will come with me. I think I know where Lothíriel may have gone."

* * *

The two men were ready in such a short time that they would not have believed it themselves, if someone had told them about it afterwards. "Lothíriel is a fast rider, she could already be at the Misty Mountains, if she presses on hard," he said.

"It's amazing how fast one can travel when one has something in mind," Éothain agreed. Then he hesitated. "My lord? I do not know if there is any connection, but… the new guard, Halen. He has disappeared. Sircyn could not find him yesterday. I was meaning to tell you, but you had so much on your mind, and I thought that he would appear again sometime, but he is still missing."

Éomer grit his teeth. "I do not know if there is any connection, but if there is…" He did not even bother to state the consequences. Such a crime had no other consequence but death.

They rode on hard in the direction of the Gap of Rohan, and spoke no further, intent on their task.

* * *

The night was freezing cold, but Lothíriel had no way to warm herself, not with her hands and feet bound. She curled up in a ball in her corner of the room, unable to see anything in the pitch dark. At least there would be a little light outside, but in this room where she was kept, there was nothing. The window was closed, and there was no door, only a little staircase that went downstairs, wherever downstairs was. The men had even left her alone, since there was no way she could possibly escape. Her dagger had been taken away from her, and all her other possessions.

Now that she was alone, a tear streaked down her face, and she finally gave way and started to cry. She saw now how foolish she had been to run away like that, how dangerous it was. Thinking about Isindil made her cry harder, and thinking about Éomer only served to make things worse. _What I would give if only I could see their faces now!_ Even if Éomer did not love her, it would be all right, if only she could see him.

* * *

Éomer was reluctant to stop for the night, but there was no other way. In the darkness they might pass some clue, and also the horses needed to rest. So they stopped for the night, but Éomer did not sleep. He lay down on the ground, staring up at the sky. Images of Lothíriel flashed by in his mind, thoughts of her hungry, lost, hurt, or worse.

_How could I have been so stupid?_ _I should have chased after her, and then perhaps she wouldn't run away_, he thought to himself angrily. _This is all my fault, and what if something has happened to her? What if I never get to see her again?_

* * *

_Ah. A rather short chapter compared to my previous ones. But I'm leaving in like… 15 minutes. And I actually should have been studying. Darn. Never mind I will cram when I'm on "holiday"._

_So now we have a corrupted soldier. Well, he's new, who knows what he has going on in his warped lil' mind. Sorry if you don't like the idea of corrupted soldiers. I think it's rather creepy, that the guy who's supposed to protect you is the one who gets you._


	17. Losing Grip

_I'm back from the pretend holiday (will not go into explanations as to why it's pretend)! And I'm supposed to be cramming for my exams that are beginning tomorrow but I just couldn't concentrate and was in desperate need of some online time. So I will now write the next chapter of my story._

_Thanks for all your reviews!_

_To Arwen Elf : Thanks for the 2 long reviews you sent me! Unfortunately they were identical (oops!). But that's okay, had a very good time reading it anyway. Yeah, I do realise I left out a lot of good places where I could have expanded. Especially Faramir and Éowyn's wedding! And I admit that the reason I left out some of those nice juicy places is because I didn't know how to write it. (Which is exactly why I am still in school memorising chemical equations and not making tons of money writing books like J.K. Rowling and all those other genius-type authors.) In fact, I am still agonising over Middle-earth weddings. I mean, do they have priests and walking down the aisle and all those other Christian/Catholic wedding stuff?_

* * *

**Chapter 17 : Losing Grip**

* * *

A figure appeared in the distance, and Éomer squinted to make it out. He gasped as they got closer. "Elenion! It's Lothíriel's horse!"

Approaching the limping stallion, Éothain's caught its reins. The two men stared in horror at the arrow that stuck out from its hind leg. Éomer began to look round desperately, hoping that perhaps Lothíriel was somewhere close by, or that he could at least find some trace of her. Éothain made the stallion lie down and began to try getting the arrow out, no easy operation when the horse was tired, hungry and frightened. _Please let me find her_, Éomer prayed as he searched for a sign. The frosted grass looked rather trampled, but it could have just been Elenion before he was shot… or not.

Then Éomer saw it.

A brown cloth, strewn on the ground, next to a rock. He picked it up, and almost let out a yell when he realised that it was stained with blood. _Whose blood?_ It couldn't possibly have been Elenion's, not with the arrow still stuck in his hind leg that way. The very idea that it could be Lothíriel's blood spread a wave of panic over him, but he pushed it away, refused to believe. _At least there is a trace_, he told himself firmly. _That's better than riding for ages not knowing whether we're going the right way._

He walked back, where Éothain was binding Elenion's leg, and grimly showed him the cloth. Éothain stood up, staring at it, then said slowly, "We can't take Elenion along with us; he'll slow us down."

Éomer nodded. "Let's just hope he knows the way back to Edoras. Otherwise, it will be freedom for the princess's steed." Stroking Elenion's mane, he said, "Here is where we will leave you, Elenion. Good luck, and hopefully we will find your mistress."

They mounted their horses, and rode on without looking back.

* * *

Lothíriel held Halen's gaze, trying to ignore the pain of the rope cutting into her wrists. After what felt like twenty years, but had only been two days, Halen, in his arrogance, had finally told her of their plan.

"The kidnap of the Princess of Dol Amroth can a war, I believe," he said with a laugh. "Even if you were not so dear to your father, your good looks might be enough. With trouble between Gondor and Rohan, it would be easy for the Dunlendings to seize power, wouldn't it?"

Despite her exhaustion, hunger, and shivering, Lothíriel just had to laugh at that plan. "A more harebrained plan I never heard!" she said spitefully. "Relations between Gondor and Rohan are too good for something like this to spark a war. They will just join forces to find me, and you will be in great trouble!"

"Laugh all you want now, princess. You won't be laughing later," Halen said with a smirk. "I'm not finished. The kidnap will strain relationships, but it is the murder of the Princess of Dol Amroth that will truly spark the war. Imagine your father's rage, when he learns that the Rohirrim have killed his precious daughter!"

"Then what is it that's keeping you? What's keeping you from cutting my head off right now?"

"Because a little merchant party from Gondor will be returning home. They'll be coming down by the Greenway in three days."

_Three days_, Lothíriel thought numbly. _Just three days left until I die. And I've only lived for twenty years._

Halen put a mug to her lips, and Lothíriel was forced to drink the water. But when he began to untie her so she could eat, she shook her head. "I'm not hungry, I'm not eating," she said, even though she was starving. _Perhaps if I starved to death first their plan would be wrecked_, she thought. _Not that it's much of a plan anyway._ At least, she hoped not. Her mind was clouded and everything was beginning to blur.

"You haven't eaten anything for three days."

"I'm not hungry!"

"Suit yourself," Halen growled, throwing the bread on the ground, and stomping off downstairs (as well as he could with his wounded foot).

Lothíriel closed her eyes, and focused on trying to clear the haze in her mind, but there was no use.

_Three days left._

* * *

The sun's last rays disappeared once more, and Éomer could almost scream. Every hour, every minute, every second that went by could make the difference. "Let's stop," he said with a sigh.

Éothain cleared his throat. "Actually, my lord, I think it might be all right if we kept going. There's only one way she could go now, anyway. Otherwise she'd be riding around in circles in Rohan. I'm sure the princess knows that, even if she doesn't know Rohan's lands. Anyone who has even seen a map of Middle-earth will know so."

Éomer could have given Éothain a hug for saying that, but instead he nodded and said, "All right, we'll press on then. But be careful, if she has been kidnapped, there might be people looking out for us."

They rode on, going as fast as they could, nothing stopping them.

_I'll see you soon, Lothíriel._

* * *

Another cold night of frost. Lothíriel kept her eyes shut, telling herself not to think of the cold. Which only made her focus on the cold more. _Now I know what a beggar feels like during winter nights. _The thought came out of nowhere, and she didn't even bother to question herself. Instead, she felt her consciousness slipping, slipping right through her fingers, and finally everything truly went dark.

* * *

_Another short chapter but I find short chapters very useful, don't you?_


	18. Feverish Dreams

_Sorry to all you people who hate short chapters! But if they frustrate you a little I think they've served their purpose! Keeps you interested. evil grin_

_To Arwen Elf : Dunlendings aren't from Rohan. They're the Wild Men that Saruman got to create trouble in Rohan during the War of the Ring. After the battle at Helm's Deep they sued for peace and Rohan and Dunland were on all right terms after that. Halen was helping the Dunlendings for some weird reason of his own that I didn't find a situation to insert in (logically he and Lothíriel wouldn't be discussing everything under the sun, and he wouldn't be telling her anything he thought didn't need telling). But I'll try to find a way to make it clear somewhere._  
_The plan that Halen has does have plenty of loopholes, but he _is_ a harebrained fool after all.  
Thanks for the recommendation on the story, I'll definitely take a look at that! =0)_

* * *

**Chapter 18 : Feverish Dreams**

* * *

In her feverish dreams Lothíriel heard the thumping of boots on the steps, and thought that Halen had come to try to make her eat again. It was day yet again, but she was not sitting up like she always did. Why was that? She did not know. After all, strange things happened in dreams. Halen approached her, almost running across the floor. _What is the hurry?_ Another thought that came from nowhere in particular.

Strong arms picked her up, and Halen's deceptive face morphed into a face she knew well, and loved. _Éomer?_ The dream was playing a trick on her, she knew it, but for that moment she allowed herself to believe. A small smile began to play at her lips. She felt like she was floating, and suddenly she was outside, with the sunlight in her eyes once more.

The last thing she felt before the dream faded into black was that she was flying.

* * *

Racing back to Edoras, Éomer kept one hand on the reins, while holding Lothíriel to him. She was shivering, but her forehead was burning. Speed was the key now; the faster they could return to Edoras to get her to a healer, the better. _If she spends too many nights out in the open…_ He shuddered, not even wanting to thinking about it. _I will get her to safety_, he vowed.

After all that riding, they had finally found her. They were almost about to ride out of Rohan when they saw a single horseman riding ahead of them. He had not noticed them, and they held back, watching him. He did not seem to be from Rohan, and they decided to follow him. Travellers did not ride about the plains alone, especially not in the wintertime.

The rider led them to Isengard, or what was left of it now that Saruman had abandoned it after the Ents' attack. He dismounted, and ran the rest of the way. Éomer and Éothain followed at a safe distance, doing their best not to alert him, and found that he was heading towards a stone house, possibly a guardhouse of some sort.

"What could a person have to do here in this deserted place?" Éothain had wondered.

"I do not know, but perhaps if we got closer, we would find out."

Thinking back, Éomer did not know how they had managed to creep up to the house without alerting the attention of the men inside, with all their armour, but creep up they did. Perhaps the Valar had blessed them, helped them. And what they had heard kindled a rage in Éomer's heart. There were two men inside, discussing their plans on how to kill the princess, and where to leave her so that her body would be found.

Everything that happened after that was a blur, but Éomer knew that the two men were no longer alive. It was the penalty for kidnapping the princess, and plotting her murder, and in Halen's case, treason as well, but in Éomer's rage he thought savagely that it was letting them off too lightly. They were going to hurt Lothíriel, he thought, tightening his hold on her unconscious form. Looking down at her face, he saw the ugly bruise, and the cuts on her wrists and ankles, and felt the anger rising again. They've hurt her already.

He frowned, pushing the anger away. They had already paid for what they had done. What was important now was to get Lothíriel back to Edoras.

They would have pushed on in the night, but the horses were exhausted, and they had already covered an incredible distance in the day, flying over the lands as they had done. Éothain took out all the blankets they had brought, and those they had found in the guardhouse, and spread two of them on the ground.

Éomer did not sleep again, but spent the night lying on the ground, cradling Lothíriel in his arms, wrapping all the blankets they had left around her to keep her warm.

* * *

They continued their journey at dawn, and only stopped when their paths crossed with Elenion again a day later. The stallion had been wandering about, and had not travelled far, and approached them as they neared. Éothain took its reins, and inspected the stallion's wound. "It's healing," he said with satisfaction. "But he still can't travel far." He tied Elenion's reins to his horse's. "My lord, I will take Elenion back to Edoras. You go on first, travel fast, and take the princess to safety."

Éomer nodded. "A better soldier I could never ask for, Éothain. Thank you." He urged his own stallion on, and only turned back once to give Éothain a wave.

At sunset, Edoras was in sight. Éomer's stallion was exhausted from carrying two people, only in full armour, and running across the plains at full gallop, and was reluctant to start galloping again. "Come, my friend," Éomer said. "Just a little distance more."

Finally the horse began to pick up speed. Éomer heard shouts from the guards on duty, and the gates swung open. He dismounted the moment he entered the city, and carried Lothíriel in his arms. "Take this stallion to the stables. He's been worked hard, and deserves to be treated well," he said to the nearest guard, and then went rushing up to the hall.

"Éomer!"

Éomer halted and turned to see Isindil running towards him. The man's face was creased with worry. "Éomer! Oh thank goodness, you have found her!"

"She needs medicine," Éomer said briskly. "I'll take her to her room."

Isindil nodded, and went running off to look for the healer.

* * *

Isindil closed the door of Lothíriel's room and sat down in the hallway next to Éomer. "She'll be all right. She just needs plenty of rest, warm food, and friendly company." He studied Éomer's face. "And I don't think she's the only one who needs plenty of rest, either."

"I'm fine," Éomer insisted. "I can wait till she's awake."

"No you can't," Isindil said firmly. "You haven't had any rest in days. You should go get some sleep yourself. Someone will be sent to you when she's awake."

Éomer wanted to protest, but Isindil would hear no excuses, and before Éomer knew it, he was being ushered off to bed.

* * *

_To lady scribe of avandell : Sorry she didn't escape by herself! I was considering that too, a sort of "Ever After"-type of situation, when the men ride up and find her walking out by herself, grumbling about stupid kidnappers, but figured that after 3 days of refusing to eat and freezing cold, PLUS her hands and feet being bound all the time, she wouldn't get very far hopping around Rohan._


	19. Safe From Harm

_Ugh I totally screwed my Geography exam today. And I screwed my Social Studies yesterday. I can just see my 2 humanities subjects sinking into the abyss. Hope I will do exceedingly well for History to at least pull SOMETHING up. Ugh. Well I need to relax now and what better way than to write?_

* * *

**Chapter 19 : Safe From Harm**

* * *

"Now, you have a good rest, and someone will let you know when Lothíriel is awake," Isindil said firmly. It was not his place, actually, to tell the King what to do in his own country, but neither of Isindil nor Éomer noticed, nor would they have cared even if they did. There was no sense in nitpicking that way when what Isindil said made sense. "Don't you worry about Éothain either. He will probably be receiving the same treatment when he gets back."

"Bundled off to bed?" Éomer asked groggily. He _was_ tired, he had to admit.

"Exactly. You just get your rest. Everything is fine now." Isindil gave him a little bow, and shut the door, leaving Éomer alone in his room.

With a sigh, Éomer pulled off his boots and stretched out on his bed. He would get rest, but he doubted that he could get any sleep until he saw Lothíriel talking and laughing like her old self. _Ah, it's good to feel the soft pillows, though_, he thought to himself with a yawn.

* * *

Éothain took his time, not wanting to put too much of a strain on Elenion, or exhaust his horse more than necessary. He walked between the two horses. It was dark now, and soon he supposed that he would stop and rest. There was no use walking through the night. There was no hurry here. The princess was probably already safe in Edoras, with all the care that she needed.

Éothain bit his lip. He hoped that the princess would be all right. Not just for her father's sake, but for his king as well. Éothain had served with Éomer since they were both fifteen, and girls had all but thrown themselves at his handsome master throughout those years, but other than occasionally asking one or two of them to dance with him at festivals, Éomer had basically ignored them. Now, though, it was plain for all to see that Lothíriel was everything to him. And Lothíriel was the only one who could make Éomer truly laugh. The first time he had seen them together, Éothain had been shocked by the way Éomer smiled and laughed when he was around her. He had never seen his king laugh that way before, not in all those years. He had never seen his king revelling in that purest form of happiness.

He sighed, thinking back on the conversation he had had with Freda one day before Lothíriel had run away.

She entered the house after a walk with the king, and was surprised to find him there. "Aren't you on duty?" she asked.

_"I'm having a break now, I just had a training session with some of the new recruits," he replied. "You were with the king again, I see."_

_A dreamy look entered Freda's eyes. "Yes, yes I was. Isn't he a lovely person?"_

_Éothain nodded. "He is." Then he frowned. "Be careful, sister."_

_Freda laughed. "What for? Are you worried that he'll dishonour me?"_

_"No, I'm not afraid of that. He would never do such a thing." He paused. "He could break your heart. He wouldn't mean to, but he could. Be careful, sister. Falling in love with the king is no small matter."_

_Freda took a chair opposite him. "Why do you say that?"_

_"Because I see you together everyday, and I see the look on your face. You're in love with him, taken with his charms and friendliness. But he isn't in love with you."_

_"How do you know that? You aren't much of an expert on love." Freda kept her tone cheerful and light, but Éothain saw the shadow that darkened her face for a fleeting moment._

_"I know my king, Freda. I know him better than any other soldier in the ranks. We've been fighting side by side since we were fifteen. And what I see in his face when he's with you is what I see in his face when he's with any of his friends. That's why I'm asking you to be careful. I don't want to see you hurt." _

_Freda looked down at her hands. "I know what you mean, brother," she said finally. "But I have to try. Otherwise I'd never find peace of mind. I have to try."_

And try she had, his lovely sister. And rejected, just as he had warned her. She had cried herself to sleep that night, and he had not known what to do for her. There was nothing to be done, in fact. It had been expected, and she had insisted on trying to win Éomer's love. Éothain shook his head as he pulled on the reins, stopping both horses, and prepared to spend the night. He had told her not to, that Éomer's love was not for her to win, because it had already belonged to someone else, even though he might not have realised it himself.

"Well, at least now he does," Éothain muttered to himself, pulling a blanket out of the bag.

* * *

Lothíriel's eyes fluttered open, and she expected herself to be huddled in the corner of the deserted, dirty, cold room, but instead she felt soft blankets over her, a soft bed below her, and found herself looking round at her room in Edoras. She sighed in relief. _It was just a bad dream, just a bad dream._ Then she winced and raised her arms. Around her wrists were angry red welts, from where the rope had hurt her. _So it was real… but why am I here now?_ She tried to sit up, but her head spun, and she collapsed back in the bed with a moan. "Hello?" she said hoarsely.

As if on cue, the door opened, and an elderly woman entered. She smiled to see Lothíriel awake. "Welcome back, princess," she said. "It's good that you're awake. How are you feeling? I brought some herbs for you. I'm Caira." She put a hand to Lothíriel's forehead and gave a little grunt in satisfaction. "Good, your temperature's coming down."

"What…" Lothíriel swallowed, and tried to speak again. "What happened?"

Caira shook her head. "I can't tell you, princess, I'm not exactly all that sure myself. But you've had a very unpleasant encounter, that's for certain. I'll let someone else who's better suited tell you. You just stay in bed, and I'll try and find your guardian, all right?" She gave Lothíriel a motherly smile, set the bowl on a stool by the bed, and left the room.

Lothíriel closed her eyes, having no intention of leaving the bed. In fact, she wasn't certain if she could. Her head didn't spin so much anymore, but she doubted that she had enough strength of get out of bed and walk around. She wondered how much time had passed. It had to have been at least two days, for her to be taken back to Edoras. _Who saved me?_ She recalled her dream about Éomer rescuing her, but didn't believe it. _No, I don't think he would have ridden all the way out to find me. It must have been Isindil who got me back. Good, strong, dependable Isindil._

Her eyes flew open when the door slammed, and she saw Isindil standing before her. If it hadn't been humanly impossible, she would have sworn that steam was coming out of his ears. He stood before her with his hands on his hips. "How could you even _think_ about running away? Didn't you have _any_ consideration about how worried I would have been? How worried we _all_ were? How could you be so rash? You're twenty, for goodness sake, can't you _act_ your age? What if you weren't rescued? What do you expect me to tell your father then? How do you expect all those twelve guards to live with the fact that they hadn't managed to take care of their princess? How do you expect all the Rohirrim to feel, if the Princess of Dol Amroth disappeared in their country?"

Lothíriel just kept quiet as Isindil paced back and forth, storming. She had never seen him so angry before. He had always been calm and cool, no matter what had happened. But this time his face was red and he was yelling so loudly her ears rang. It wasn't like him at all, and she put a hand over her eyes, not wanting to look at him anymore. It broke her heart seeing him so worked up, and knowing that it was all her fault. _It's someone else talking_, she told herself. _It's not Isindil. It's not._

"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, PRINCESS!" Isindil stopped his tirade and took a deep breath. Then he came to sit down by the bed and folded Lothíriel into a huge embrace. "You gave me the scare of my life," he said quietly, all his pent-up worry and anger vented. "Don't you ever do that again. What would your family do without you around?"

"I'm sorry," Lothíriel whispered. Tears stung her eyes, and she made no effort to hold them back. She felt like a little girl, childish, foolish, helpless. But for now, it was all right. She had spent so long keeping her guard up around Halen, showing him that she was strong, that he didn't frighten her. Now it was all right to tear those walls down. Isindil was here, and he was safe.

Isindil kissed her forehead, and smiled. Lothíriel was stunned to see tears in his eyes. "Thank goodness you're safe now. Everything will be all right." He picked up the steaming bowl of herbal soup. Eyeing her hands, he gave a little laugh and said, "I doubt you can hold this bowl steady yourself. Well, I suppose I shall have to feed you like a baby."

Lothíriel cracked a smile. "I suppose you do."


	20. Things Will Be Just Fine

_To Lossenrhos : Who's Ovid? Haha… see I'm much worse than you._

_Exam Update : I totally botched up the 1st Additional Math paper on Wednesday. Went home depressed and shell-shocked because I was counting on my Math subjects to pull up my grade. The 2nd Add. Math paper on Thursday was much better, and the History paper rocked, I just hope I do well for it, because sometimes when I think I was good I don't do too well anyway. The Physics paper today wasn't too bad. Now I can relax because Monday is a public holiday and after that I just have a few more multiple-choice papers to do. And oh yeah, tomorrow I have my Chinese O Level Listening Comprehension exam. BORING! Hahaha so I'm in pretty good spirits, you could say. Yay!_

_I haven't updated in a really long time. Okay it's only been 2 days but after my intensive writing in the hols it feels like a long time. So it's good to be writing again!_

* * *

**Chapter 20 : Things Will Be Just Fine**

* * *

"My Lord? Sir?"

Éomer all but leapt up to see Caira standing by his bed. "What is it?" he asked, bleary-eyed. He tried to rub the sleep away from his eyes.

"The princess of Dol Amroth, my lord. She's awake."

All traces of exhaustion evaporated. He nodded briskly to Caira. "All right, thank you, Caira," he said. "You've taken very good care of her."

Caira waved away his polite praise, but she was evidently pleased that she had been able to serve her king so well. "Her guardian is with her right now, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you joined them," she said. "I shall take my leave now, my Lord, but I will be around if any help is required."

Éomer nodded briskly, and held open the door for Caira to leave before stepping out of his room himself. Then he rushed towards Lothíriel's room, suppressing the urge to burst into a run. He almost burst into the room, but checked himself and knocked first. _No use bursting in like barbarian_, he reasoned with himself. He knocked, waited a moment, and then opened the door.

The sunlight of the morning streamed in through the windows, and so did the winter breeze, but the steady fire kept the room warm enough. Caira had taken everything into consideration.

Isindil was sitting by Lothíriel's bed, holding a bowl of soup, and he had turned to look at Éomer when the door opened. But nothing caught Éomer's attention. Nothing except Lothíriel. She was lying in bed, and although a smile had been on her face, she was pale, and she looked so helpless. And it was then that Éomer truly realised that even though Lothíriel was not like the other girls he had ever met, she wasn't _that_ different from them. She was strong, but not invincible. All he wanted to do then was to wrap his arms around her until she was better again, until she was back to her old self. Now she looked so tired, so… broken.

Isindil glanced at Lothíriel, who seemed to have frozen in place, and yawned. "I suppose I should get some rest, I'm really tired. And I have to tell the men that their princess is all right, so that _they_ can get some rest. They've been really worried as well," he said, standing up. He gave Éomer a look and said significantly, "I'll leave the soup here."

Éomer gave him a grateful look, and seized his chance. "I'll… I'll take over." He took the bowl from Isindil.

"Why, thank you, my lord, you are most kind." Isindil smiled. Turning to Lothíriel, he said, "Rest well, princess. I'll be back to see you again later."

Lothíriel said nothing, staring ahead of her into thin air. Isindil nodded to Éomer, offering him silent encouragement, and closed the door behind him when he left.

Éomer turned back to face Lothíriel, who had not moved at all, and then took Isindil's seat. It occurred to him that he had not really thought about what he was going to do in this situation. Just seeing Lothíriel awake had been his main concern, but now he wished fervently that he had given this moment a little more thought. Sitting here like a piece of stone wasn't going to help matters at all, and it seemed like all he could be at the moment was a piece of stone. He looked down at the bowl of soup, and laughed awkwardly. "Ah… you seem to have taken a lot of it already. That's good. Caira would be glad." He cleared his throat. "It's good that you're back in Edoras… everyone's very glad about that. We're just really happy that you're safe." _Stop, you're rambling_, he told himself, but still he babbled on, feeling obligated to fill the silence. "You're looking quite well, and soon you will be just like your old self, and we can go riding again. Unless, of course, you want to do something else…"

"I'm sorry."

Éomer almost dropped the bowl at that almost inaudible whisper. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," Lothíriel said in a slightly louder whisper. She turned towards him, and he saw that her red-rimmed eyes were brimming with tears. "Isindil told me about how you saved me." A tear spilled down her cheek. "I… I had lost hope, and I was prepared to die."

Éomer put the bowl aside, moved to sit on Lothíriel's bed, and gingerly wrapped his arms around her, worrying that he would hurt her if he held her too tight. "It's all right, there's nothing to be sorry about," he told her gently. "Anyone would have lost hope. You were strong, Lothíriel, and that's why you made it back." He laughed softly. "If anyone has to be sorry, it should be me. If I hadn't behaved the way I had, you would never have left in the first place."

Lothíriel pulled away from him, and wiped her tears with a shaky hand. "One isn't wrong when he doesn't pretend to love."

"But one _is_ wrong when he loves, but doesn't realise it, and doesn't admit it."

Lothíriel's eyes widened in surprise, and she stared at him for the longest time, not believing what she had heard. Unsure of what more to say, Éomer just let her stare, and sat before her with a small smile on his lips, taking in everything that he noticed about her. She was beautiful even when she was so ill. A tear was sliding down her cheeks, but neither of them made a move to wipe it away.

This time, the silence was beautiful.

* * *

Isindil sat in his room, writing a message to send to Imrahil. It would not do to let the Prince know of this whole escapade only when they returned after the winter. And they would definitely be returning only after the winter. Lothíriel was in no condition to travel even if she wanted to. _And I doubt she will want to_, he thought, smiling to himself.

_To my dearest friend,  
Éomer is treating us with the utmost respect, and his hospitality is very gratefully accepted. I would have written earlier, if not for certain circumstances that have come to pass, the most serious and grave of those to be the runaway of your daughter Lothíriel.  
Upset by a misunderstanding with the King of Rohan, regarding certain matters of the heart, Lothíriel had taken it into her head to run away, and for three days we knew not where she was. Search parties were sent, and everyone was worried, and on the lookout for any possible sign of where she could have gone. Finally King Éomer recalled something that he had said to her in passing about the Gap of Rohan and the Misty Mountains, and was convinced that she would be able to be found there. Thus he and his most trusted guard went out of search of her.  
They found her after two days of hard riding hidden at Isengard. Apparently she had been kidnapped halfway on her lonely journey, kidnapped by a corrupted Rohirrim and a Dunlending. We still do not know their purpose. I suppose that the princess knows it, but have not asked her since I did not want to remind her too much of her ordeal.  
This is not an easy thing to put in a letter, and therefore I will not go into details. There is no longer a cause for worry, as the princess is safely back in Edoras, and recuperating very well under the care of the best healer in Edoras. She will be all right very soon and we will be returning to Dol Amroth in the spring.   
Till we meet again,  
Isindil_

He folded the letter, and sealed it. Later he would pass it to the best of his twelve man, someone who would be able to make it back to Dol Amroth with all speed.

He wondered how things were going on between Éomer and Lothíriel, then laughed to himself. They would be just fine, two young people full of pride, finally jerked back to reality. Things would be just fine.


	21. Most Heartfelt

_To Lossenrhos : That's dumb! We all know that statues don't come alive! I bet the statues must have been laughing at Ovid when he was writing about them. Wahahahaha._

* * *

**Chapter 21 : Most Heartfelt**

* * *

Lothíriel sat in bed, cradling her bowl of hot soup. She had been feeling better and better everyday for the past two days, and Caira had been most pleased. She was getting a little tired of staying in bed all day, but Caira wouldn't let her get up. "Tomorrow, perhaps, my lady, but not today. You need at least one more day of rest," she had said sternly. Since she was the expert, Lothíriel had not bothered to argue.

Besides, staying in bed _did_ have its merits at times. Especially when Éomer came to see her, after fulfilling his duties for the day. Then he would fuss and worry over her, and even though she had never really enjoyed being fussed over, she had to say that this time it was rather pleasant. Just the thought of him brought a blush to her cheeks.

Their first kiss was definitely something that she would never, ever forget. It was her very first kiss, and it had been so much more magical than anything she had ever been able to imagine. She had felt so much happiness, feeling his arms around her, his lips on hers, and everything that they felt between them, hanging in the air. She had never felt so much warmth before, and she had never felt safer, even though it felt as if the ground was sliding away from beneath her feet, and that the earth was tilting, and everything was spinning.

Once, so long ago, her mother had spoken to her of love.

_"Love is not something anyone can prepare for, my precious daughter. It just comes to you all of a sudden, out of nowhere. At first it's not there, and then you blink, and it's there, bright, bold and beautiful. Seize it, Lothíriel. You must remember to seize it, because it's the best thing that will ever happen to you, and you will never regret it. Even if it makes you cry, makes you hurt, hold on to it, and everything will be all right."_

At that time, Lothíriel had only been ten, and had simply nodded, but did not understand how much truth was in her mother's words. Now she saw how truly spoken they were. "Oh, Mother," she whispered. "I wish you could be here to see me now, to see how happy I am."

There was a knock on her door, and Éomer poked his head in. "Oh, you're awake," he said with a bright smile, stepping into the room.

Lothíriel put aside her bowl and giggled like a dizzy child when Éomer promptly put his hands on her waist and kissed her forehead. She turned bright red when she realised that they were not the only ones in the room, and pushed him away (though not too hard). "Éomer… we have company!"

"That's all right, princess, perfectly all right," Éothain said with a broad smile.

Lothíriel looked at him seriously. "Éothain, you have the worst taste in soldiers."

Éothain's face fell, and he looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry…" he began.

At the same time, Freda rushed to her brother's defence. "I'm truly sorry, my lady, but it wasn't my brother's fault…"

Lothíriel stopped them both by bursting into laughter. "Don't worry so much, the both of you! It was simply a joke," she said after she had managed to stop her laughter. "It's good to see the two of you. I was beginning to think that Éomer and Isindil spent their hours at my door, beating away other visitors."

Éothain laughed. "Glad to see you in high spirits, my lady. Those two men…" He stopped abruptly, catching Éomer's death glare, and then began to apologise. "I'm so sorry… I wasn't supposed to talk about it…"

But something else had caught Lothíriel's attention. "Two?" She shook her head. "There were three."

Éomer's eyes widened. "We only saw two, didn't we, Éothain?"

Éothain agreed, and the two man instantly began fretting about the one they had let get away. Apparently they felt that justice had not been properly dealt, since not all the hearts of the kidnappers were stone cold.

Freda made a sound. "What does it really matter?" she asked. "The princess is safe in Edoras, with the King himself watching over her. I doubt anyone could reach her. And certainly one man, finding both his accomplices killed, would not dare try to abduct the princess? Perhaps we should just forget about him, and let him go. With no one to help him, he will not be able to carry out such a crime again."

Lothíriel would not have been so merciful. In fact, she would probably have wanted to plunge her dagger in his heart personally, but after hearing Freda's words, she realised that she agreed. After all, everything has turned out right, and I'm safe in Edoras. "I think Freda might be right," she said. "Even if he does find new friends and wants to try kidnapping again, who is he going to kidnap? And how? Halen is dead. I've learnt my lesson, and Éomer, you probably won't be letting me very far out of your sight."

"But… but… we have to at least find him!" Éothain protested, and Éomer added in his similar opinion.

"He's probably already in Dunland. Rohan has given them that land to keep as theirs, you could not just barge in with soldiers and demand an arrest," Lothíriel reasoned.

"What if he tells some false tale to rouse the people against Rohan? If he wanted to create strife, he could have found other ways." Éothain argued, but Éomer kept silent, considering the politics.

"The Dunlendings have vowed never to invade or attack Rohan. They will not do so just because of one man's wild tales," he said finally.

"Exactly," Lothíriel agreed. "And they will never dare to try such a thing, as if they do, they will face not only Éomer and Rohan, but my father, bearing the flag of Dol Amroth and fighting in the name of Gondor. It is too big a risk for them."

"Perhaps it is best to leave him be for now. But if he tries anything else, there will be no mercy for him," Éomer said.

"If he tries anything else, I will personally cut his throat," Lothíriel vowed.

Éothain laughed. "Forgive my saying so, princess, but you are a vicious one!"

"Thank you," Lothíriel replied with an impish grin.

The problem so quickly solved, they all fell silent, and finally Freda spoke up, if not timidly, "My lord, brother, could I have a word with the princess in private, please?"

Éomer shot Lothíriel a look, knowing her feelings about Freda, but Lothíriel smiled and nodded. Now that she knew Éomer loved her with all his heart, she hated Freda no longer. And Freda had come to see her, and meant well, after all.

Éomer nodded. "Of course, Freda. Éothain, what say we go and get some work done in the hall?"

The two men left the room, and Lothíriel gestured for Freda to sit down in the chair by the bed. Freda took the seat, and was silent for a moment, while she came up with what she really wanted to say. Lothíriel saved her the awkwardness of starting first.

"I'm glad you came to see me, Freda," she said. "And I want to apologise for that last day, how I spoke to you. It was really rude of me."

Freda started, and shook her head. "No, no… I was not offended, my lady," she said.

Lothíriel cleared her throat. "The truth was… I was jealous of you."

Freda frowned, not understanding. "Jealous? Why would you be jealous of me? You're a Princess of Dol Amroth."

"Yes, I am princess. But I was still jealous of you, because you seem so perfect. You're always so proper, and polite, and lovely, and everyone loved you. You made me feel uncouth, crude. And I didn't know what I could do to get people to like me the way they like you."

Freda leaned forward earnestly. "But they do like you, princess. Your warmth… it brings something to those around you. When you were gone, everyone was so worried, and everyone was so afraid that you would never be seen again. So many people had sleepless nights. That's how much people love you, princess."

Lothíriel shook her head. "That wasn't exactly what I meant. What I meant was… I was jealous of you because Éomer seemed to like you so much more than he liked me. It seems so silly now."

Freda was quiet for a moment, then she said, "Actually, the night you ran away, I… I confessed my feelings to Éomer, hoping that he would accept me." She laughed softly. "He turned me down, just as Éothain predicted. He didn't mention your name, but I could see that he rejected me because of you. He already loved you more than he could understand. Finding that you had left just made him wake up and realise it."

Lothíriel's breath caught. Éomer had not mentioned that to her. She didn't know what to say, but reached out and took Freda's hand.

"I'm just a friend to him, someone to talk to and laugh with occasionally, but you hold the key to his heart, and always will. That's the truth, princess. My manners affect him not, but your laugh, your smile, and your light… all that, it's everything to him. And I wish the both of you happiness."

Lothíriel leaned forward and wrapped Freda in a hug. "Thank you."

* * *

_"The time it takes to get from Rohan to Dol Amroth in winter" later…_

* * *

A servant girl brought a letter into the hall where Imrahil was having breakfast with his sons. "My lord, a soldier riding from Rohan brought this." She handed him the letter, curtsied, and left the hall.

"Must be from Lothíriel," Elphir remarked.

Imrahil read the letter, and then read it again, and again, not believing what it was he was reading. Lothíriel… run away? Well, she was capable of that, but he was horrified that it had happened. At least there was nothing to be worried about anymore. However, she would be in trouble when she returned after the spring. He frowned. He should never have let her go to Rohan like that. And he never would allow such a thing to happen ever again.

"What is it?" Erchirion asked.

Imrahil handed Elphir the letter, and he read it out loud to the table. "I can't believe she actually ran away. That girl doesn't use her brain at all, sometimes," he commented when he had finished.

Amrothos grinned. "Well, well, well… that's interesting. 'Certain matters of the heart', eh?"


	22. Home

_To LOTR-nutcase : OH MY GOSH THE KING IS A QUEEN! I didn't even see that when I was proof-reading. That's what you get when you're writing half-awake in the middle of the night. Anyway, I corrected it and replaced the chapter. =0)_

_To Lossenrhos : I saw Ovid's book in MPH today and it was called The Erotic Poems. There is definitely something wrong with the guy._

_I've given up on writing tacky things like "however long it takes" later. So from now on I'll just use double lines to symbolise that time has passed for their travels. It looks a lot more professional and smart (hehe)._

* * *

**Chapter 22 : Home**

* * *

To all those who hated the cold, winter was long, too long. But for Éomer and Lothíriel, the winter flew by, day and night blending into one seamless chain. And when the cold air warmed up, and the frozen ground gained heat from the spring, Lothíriel was reluctant to leave Rohan. But her father would be waiting for her in Dol Amroth. Isindil had sent word to him about Lothíriel's dramatic episode, and she was certain that he would not be very pleased. In fact, she was expecting to have his full wrath descend upon her. It was best not to keep him boiling.

"I don't want to leave Rohan," she said, leaning her head on Éomer's shoulder, as they sat upon the steps staring up at the stars. "I don't want to ride away and leave you behind."

Éomer kissed the top of her head. "You won't leave me behind. When you ride away, you'll take my heart with you."

"Sappy words," Lothíriel remarked with a smile.

"It's all your fault."

Lothíriel said nothing in reply, but kissed his cheek. She laughed, thinking back at the first time they had met. "I never told you what the misunderstanding between Father and I was," she said.

"No, you didn't. Will you tell me now?"

"It seems so faraway and foolish now. I thought that my father was making me come to Rohan because he wanted to marry me to you. I thought the two of you were in it together." Lothíriel reddened at the memory. "That's why I didn't want to like you. I didn't want to give my father the satisfaction of thinking he was doing something right."

Éomer laughed, slipping his arm around her waist. "I don't believe in arranged marriages, Lothíriel." He grinned. "But perhaps I should have asked your father to arrange it, if he would. It would have saved us a lot of trouble, wouldn't it?"

"But I'd force myself to hate you for the rest of our lives. This way, there's nothing holding me back."

"Holding you back from what?"

"Doing this." Lothíriel raised her head again and kissed him on the lips.

* * *

Once again, it was time for travelling, but this time Lothíriel felt no anticipation. She did miss her home, and the sea, but now she loved Rohan as well, with its vast grasslands. And she didn't want to leave Éomer. "I'll miss you," she said to him.

"Me too, but we'll see each other again sometime soon," he told her. "I promise." Leading her to Elenion, he said with a laugh, "You just have a good journey, and try not to get in trouble in Dol Amroth, or your father might think it's my influence!"

After one last kiss, Lothíriel mounted, and Isindil gave the signal. The party began to ride away. Just before they were out of sight, Lothíriel turned, and waved to the tall figure that stood there, watching her.

* * *

That night, Lothíriel sat cross-legged in Isindil's tent, watching him sharpening his sword. "I haven't sharpened a sword in a long time," she said. "Can I try?"

Isindil gave her a look. "You can sharpen your own sword when we're back in Dol Amroth, Lothíriel. The last thing we need on this journey is for you to cut off one of your own fingers."

Lothíriel pouted. "I'm not that clumsy."

"Still, I'm not taking anymore chances. I've had enough from you for a very long time." Isindil continued lightly, "And I'm sure your father will have a few words for you when we get back."

"More than a few," Lothíriel replied. "I probably really shouldn't have run away."

"You shouldn't have," Isindil said mildly, then he grinned. "But it did bring some good, didn't it? Gave a certain king a jolt to his senses, didn't it? Perhaps every woman should run away now and then, to keep the men longing for them."

Lothíriel blushed. "Don't tease me, Isindil."

"All right, Lothíriel. I'll leave that to your brothers when we get back."

Lothíriel left Isindil's tent and returned to hers, a little smile on her face. The sight brought a smile to all the faces of the men, glad to see that their princess was happy once again.

Entering her own tent, she sat down and pulled out some paper and a quill pen, and began to write.

_Dear Mother,  
I miss you so much, even though so many years have passed. I wish you were still here with me, so you could share in my happiness. I've kept to what you taught me about love, and you were right; it has brought me great peace and joy.  
Éomer is a good man and a good king, and I have no doubt that you would have liked him very much. He is a tough warrior who has proved his worth time and again, especially during the War of the Ring, but when out of his armour, he is kind and warm towards his guests. And the most important part is that he loves me, more than I could ever ask for. He treats me so well, and I love him so much.  
I wish you were here to meet him.  
Love, Lothíriel_

Ripping up the letter into little pieces, Lothíriel stepped out of her tent one more, and threw the little pieces of the letter into the air, letting the wind carry it up and away, up to the stars, where her mother was. Then she returned to the tent, and had a peaceful night of slumber.

* * *

Lothíriel smiled as she rode through the gates of Dol Amroth, smiling upon the familiar sights. A murmur ran through the men riding behind her. Everyone was glad to be home. Isindil nodded to the men, and Lothíriel thanked them for having accompanied her on her journey to Rohan, and the men rode off, on their way home to their families. Lothíriel and Isindil kept riding on, until they reached the steps leading up to Imrahil's hall, where her father and brothers were waiting for them.

"Welcome home," Imrahil said with a smile as they dismounted. "Isindil, I do have to thank you for accompanying Lothíriel." He gave his daughter a look. "It has not been easy for you, I suppose."

Isindil laughed. "Not at all, but it was still a pleasure. Lothíriel has learnt her lesson, and I doubt she would ever do such a rash thing again. I myself have given her a rather large talking to."

Lothíriel bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Father, for my actions. I won't do it again."

"You had better not," Imrahil said sternly. "I am going to have to set some punishments for you, daughter. Running away just isn't the way to handle situations, no matter what they might be."

"Unless you're alone and unarmed and Orcs are running towards you," Erchirion piped up.

"Erchirion, I'm talking to your sister."

"Sorry."

"Lothíriel, perhaps keeping you from riding for a month would be sufficient punishment?" Imrahil raised an eyebrow, looking at her.

"Yes, Father," Lothíriel murmured. She had expected something worse, of course, but she was going to miss riding Elenion, after doing it so often in Rohan. Her father really knew how to find punishments that one could not easily forget.

"Now that that's dealt with…" Imrahil swept his daughter up in a hug. "It's so wonderful to see you again, my daughter. Come, we have a good dinner prepared."

Lothíriel beamed, and hugged her brothers. Then, as they walked up the stairs, Amrothos spoke. "Father's dealt with the punishment part, yes, but how come no one has mentioned the part about the 'matters of the heart'?"

Everyone turned to look at Lothíriel, and she turned as red as a tomato. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words, and shut her mouth again.

"Come, tell us," Erchirion urged.

"Yes, do," Imrahil remarked with a smile. "But not now, while we're standing out here in the open with our stomach's growling! You will tell us everything when we eat."

"Then let's hurry into the hall," Elphir said with a laugh. "I have a feeling that it is going to be a most interesting account." __


	23. Visitors In Dol Amroth

_The double-line thingy didn't work in the last chapter, I don't know why. I'll try again next time the characters travel._

* * *

**Chapter 23 : Visitors in Dol Amroth**

* * *

"I don't know how long I've had… _feelings_… for Éomer, but I suppose it must have been quite a long time," Lothíriel began, slowly and shyly.

"I knew there had to be a reason for all those letters," Amrothos declared.

"Don't interrupt her, she's telling a good story," Erchirion chided.

Everyone at the table listened eagerly as Lothíriel shyly related everything that she wanted to tell them. It was difficult finding the right words to express herself, but she managed, and when she finished, the table was silent, the food almost forgotten (except for Isindil, who had not heard anything new, and had not forgotten his hunger).

Finally Erchirion began to chuckle. "Well, all I can say is that Éomer's had a frightfully good winter while we lounged around Dol Amroth, bored out of our minds!" he said.

"Most unfair," Amrothos agreed.

"If only I could have found a lovely girl to spend my winter with." Even Elphir could not hold back from teasing.

"Incredible that you even came home!" Imrahil added with a laugh.

"Stop, all of you!" Lothíriel moaned. "Isindil, stop them!"

Isindil looked up from his stew. "You're the royal family. Who am I to be stopping anyone, princess?"

"Not princess!" Erchirion exclaimed. "Queen!"

Lothíriel blushed, and looked down at her stew. "Nothing's been said about _that_."

"Good, otherwise you haven't been telling us everything. And now, I think I shall attend to my food. I need my strength. Perhaps I could find a nice girl to spend the spring with, since I missed my chance in the winter. The chance that Éomer seized." With that, Amrothos fell to his stew with great enthusiasm.

Elphir and Erchirion expressed similar sentiments, and the table was quiet once more, everyone (for that moment) devoted to their dinner.

* * *

Lothíriel got out of bed, and pulled her cloak around her shoulders, over her plain nightdress, and walked out to the balcony of her room. Her father really doted upon her, and had made sure that she had a room looking out to sea, knowing how much she loved it.

The moon illuminated the crests of the waves subtly, and the steady sounds of splashing water was hypnotising. The white foam the waves created was seen at regular intervals, and all in all, that night the sea conveyed a feeling of absolute peace and stability. Lothíriel closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lulled by the sounds she heard, and calmed by the breeze she felt, sweeping out from the land to the sea. In her mind, she drew the image of Éomer close to her, closer and closer, until it felt like he was there with her, with his arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm. Then she called for the memory of her mother. One by one, she added everyone she loved into the environment around her, smiling at the memories that flashed past. She marvelled at how fortunate she was, how wonderful her life was. How she had been saved time and again from troubles and problems, and how splendidly she would live her life in the years to come.

She had not made herself return to bed, or felt herself walking across the floor, but her last memory before falling asleep was the warmth of her blankets, the softness of her bed, and the memory of all her loved ones watching over her as she fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, after breakfast, Imrahil said to his daughter, "Lothíriel, may I speak with you?"

Lothíriel nodded obediently, and followed her father into his study. "What is it, Father?"

"You are sure of what you are doing? You, and the King of the Mark?"

Lothíriel laughed. "Father, you know Éomer, I thought you'd be glad…"

"I _am_ glad. But it doesn't matter how glad I am, if you don't know what you're doing, and get yourself hurt. Éomer's a good man, I've said so myself. But the affairs of the heart are never easy, and sometimes your emotions can play tricks on you. And so I want you to be sure."

Lothíriel held her father's gaze confidently, and steadily. "Father, I am certain of what I'm doing." She smiled. "With him, I feel so safe. He'd never let anyone or anything hurt me. I know I can trust him for always. And he feels the same. Father, we know what we're doing."

Imrahil nodded. "Well, then my worries are eased." He smiled, and kissed his daughter's forehead. "You are so much like your mother, Lothíriel, and I am so proud of you."

* * *

_Two months later…_

* * *

"Lothíriel! Lothíriel!" A frightful thumping was heard on her bedroom door, and Lothíriel flew to get it.

It was Amrothos, grinning from ear to ear. Automatically, Lothíriel leaned out to see if Erchirion was anywhere in sight, and if they had some prank to play on her. She noticed Erchirion hurrying down the corridor. "What is it?" she asked with a frown. "You were making such a din!"

"That's because something happen that would require the enthusiasm of a din," Erchirion explained, panting for breath as he came to a halt next to his brother.

"What's that?"

"A travelling party has been sighted. A most grand-looking travelling party," Amrothos said, raising an eyebrow and giving Lothíriel a significant look.

"It's probably someone here to see Father. What does it have to do with me?"

Erchirion, looking at Amrothos, shook his head. "She doesn't understand." He turned back to her. "It's a _royal_ travelling party. From _Rohan_."

A gasp escaped Lothíriel's lips, and she pushed her brothers aside to rush out to meet them. She was halfway along the hallway when she stopped and ran back, pushing past her brothers again to enter her room. Stopping in front of the mirror, she adjusted her dress, hastily brushed her hair, and then ran out again.

"She's gone mad," Amrothos said, gaping after her.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have broken it to her so suddenly," Erchirion suggested.

"I agree, brother."

* * *

Lothíriel ran all the way down the steps and through all the people who had gathered to see the travellers coming in. Seeing their princess, they stepped aside immediately to let her pass, wondering where she was off to in such a hurry. She saw the travellers riding in through the gate, and saw the man riding at their head stop his horse, and dismount.

"Éomer!"

His hair was matted from his travelling, and, true to his nature, he did not seem to have bothered much about getting it neat and tidy. Travelling in times of peace, he was not wearing his armour, but _was_ wearing his favourite green cloak and a broad smile, as he saw her coming towards him, and caught her in his arms. "It's so good to hold you again," he murmured into her hair.

"You sent no messenger, gave no notice that you were coming."

He pulled back and touched her face. "I wanted to surprise you. Éothain's in charge of things in Rohan for now. I'm here to see your father."

Lothíriel's face fell. "Not to see me?"

Éomer grinned at her. "That's why I've come to see your father."

* * *

Imrahil, and his sons, were waiting for Éomer and Lothíriel, and Éomer was greeted most warmly, while his men were shown to rooms and given food and drink. "You must be weary from your travelling," Imrahil said. "Hariel will show you to your room." He gestured to a young slip of a girl, who immediately bobbed a curtsy. Then he smiled at his daughter. "Lothíriel, perhaps you would like to accompany them?"

Lothíriel nodded, and Erchirion remarked, "Don't stay too long, mind." And fell to sniggering with Amrothos as Éomer turned a most embarrassing shade of red.

Lothíriel smacked her brother on the arm. "Keep your nonsense to yourself, Erchirion," she warned. Then she took Éomer's hand, and they both followed Hariel.


	24. Initiation

_To lady scribe of avandell : Don't worry! When I am about to finish a story, I have a tendency to say so like 3 chapters in advance, and start getting nostalgic already. But I'm not done yet, not by a long shot. Muahahahaha._

* * *

**Chapter 24 : Initiation**

* * *

Éomer stood before Imrahil in his study. Erchirion and Amrothos were sitting in a corner, studying the account books intently. Éomer had been told that despite being extremely fond of trouble, the two brothers were very good at managing accounts, and it was the only time they were ever serious. Therefore, Imrahil often set them the task of managing the accounts of the city, if only to keep them out of trouble for a while.

Éomer swallowed. He had expected to only be speaking with Imrahil, and had not counted on the presence of Lothíriel's two brothers as well. _What does it matter?_ He finally asked himself. _They will hear of it soon enough, anyway._

"What is it that you wanted to speak with me about, Éomer?"

Éomer shifted, feeling nervous. He took a deep breath, and opened his mouth, making sure to think through his words first. Never had he been in such desperate need to impress. "I would like your permission to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

A sound was heard; Amrothos had dropped his quill. "Don't drip ink on the paper!" Erchirion whispered furiously, pulling the quill away. Otherwise, the room was silent. Imrahil stood behind his chair, his eyes on Éomer, trying to let what he had just heard sink in.

Imrahil spoke at last, but slowly. "You want to marry Lothíriel?"

Éomer nodded. "I haven't asked her yet, because I thought I would like to get your blessing…"

A smile broke across Imrahil's face. "Of course you have my blessing, Éomer. A better man for my daughter I could not imagine."

Éomer heaved a great sigh of relief. He had known that Imrahil would agree, of course, but a small part of him had been worrying, keeping him up all night. He gave Imrahil a bright smile. "Thank you very much, sir. Well… I won't keep you from your duties any longer." He turned to go.

"Father, we've finished," Erchirion announced before Éomer even opened the door. "I think we shall be going too."

"Here's the books, Father, perhaps you would like to check everything once over, and we'll be somewhere in Dol Amroth if you need us back," Amrothos added, putting the stack of books down on his father's desk. The brothers started to the door as well, and left with Éomer.

Erchirion put an arm around Éomer's shoulder. "So, you're going to join our lovely family," he said, exchanging a glance with Amrothos.

Éomer wondered what they were up to now. Lothíriel had warned him to beware of them. "They're like twins, only born a year apart," she had said with a laugh. "And they usually aren't up to any good."

So now Éomer watched them warily as they chattered on and on, leading him down the hallway, and eventually even out of the great hall. Nodding to the guards as they passed them by, the two did not even stop talking. "Where are you taking me to?" Éomer asked uncertainly. Although he had a few good years over the both of them, _and_ he was the King of Rohan, he was beginning to feel very helpless, walking between the two of them.

Amrothos grinned. "Don't worry so much, nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"Relax," Erchirion chirped. "You'll be just fine."

They had rounded the great hall and were quite a distance from it now. Éomer saw a little shack in front of him, and it seemed as if they were going towards it. "Where are we going? What are you doing?" He really didn't want to offend them or anything, since they were Lothíriel's brothers, but he was really starting to get desperate for a getaway now. But they were both strong men as well, and so all he could do was follow obediently and hope that Lothíriel, Elphir, or Isindil would walk past, and stop Erchirion and Amrothos.

"This shack has been abandoned for a really long time, and only Amrothos and I spend much time here. We've been playing around here since we were children," Erchirion explained.

"Well, we don't _play_, not anymore, but we still come here a lot."

Éomer eyed the shack, wondering what plan they were concocting. "Yes, and so…"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt two hands pushing him, and he stumbled into the shack. Before he could turn and make a run for it, the door slammed shut and he heard the lock turn. "Erchirion! Amrothos!" he yelled. "What's this for? I didn't do anything!" He kicked the door, but it held. There was silence, but he knew that the two brothers were still outside. Probably waiting to see what he would do.

He clenched his jaw. Well, he would show them, if they wanted to see what he would do. He felt the hinges of the door, and grinned. He knew how to deal with this. He began to search the shack for something hard that he could use, and found a rock in one corner. He didn't know what it was doing in there, but he was grateful for it. Going back to the door, he used it to hit the hinges, pulling out the pins.

Eventually, he had dismantled all the hinges, and simply swung the door open the other way and stepped out, planning to give Erchirion and Amrothos a piece of his mind about how to treat guests, even if the abovementioned guest _was_ planning to marry their sister. But his anger melted away when he saw the amazed faces of the brothers, and he began to laugh. Tossing the rock to Erchirion, he said, "Please, don't do that to me ever again. This time we can probably fix the door back, but I'm not sure about the next."

The brothers exchanged glances, and smiles began to spread across their faces. "Very good!" Erchirion said enthusiastically, coming over to thump Éomer on the back.

"Excellent!" Amrothos agreed. "Now you have _our_ blessing."

Éomer frowned at the brothers. "Excuse me?"

"Our blessing," Erchirion repeated. "We're saying that we completely approve of you marrying Lothíriel. You've just proved yourself."

"You're smart, and have a sense of humour. And you didn't throw any tantrums," Amrothos explained.

Éomer raised an eyebrow. "What if I had?"

"Then we'd leave you in there," Erchirion said easily, putting one arm around Éomer's shoulders again. "But since you _didn't_, we give you our blessing. Which is something you'd want to have, if you don't want strange things happening to you."

"All right…"

Amrothos looked at him seriously. "So, have you thought about how you're going about it?"

"Going about what?"

"The proposal!" Erchirion said impatiently. Turning to Amrothos, he said, "Maybe he's not so smart after all."

"Oh, the proposal," Éomer said hastily, before they could try to push him back into the shack, or try something else. "No, I actually haven't thought about it. I thought I'd ask your father's permission first…"

"That's all right," Amrothos said brightly. "We'll help you!"

Éomer looked at them suspiciously. "You'll help me? What do you know about proposing to girls?"

"We had a nurse who was a hopeless romantic," Erchirion said. "Anyway, it's not like _you_ know so very much yourself. But don't worry. Your brothers-in-law will make sure that it's the best proposal ever. Something our dearest sister will remember for the rest of her life."

* * *

_Haha, what's a good tale without some mischief?_


	25. The Perfect Proposal

_To LOTR-nutcase : Yeah, but I suppose they just want to see how much of a sense of humour he has? Weird fellows._

* * *

**Chapter 25 : The Perfect Proposal**

* * *

"If you want to really make sure she agrees," Amrothos began, "you must make sure that it is the most memorable experience of her life."

"And with us as brothers, I can assure you that Lothíriel has seen _a lot_," Erchirion said, nodding thoughtfully.

Éomer had never been brought up to slump in his seat, but he slumped now. He really did not think that taking the advice of the two royal troublemakers of the city was a good idea, especially when it was such an important thing they were dealing with. "Actually," he said, "I think I can really handle this by myself…"

Erchirion waved his hand. "You want to impress her, don't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"Then you really need to know what she likes and what she wants and what she expects."

"And we know her very, _very_ well," Amrothos said meaningfully. "We can help!"

"But…"

"We already have a good plan. Trust us, it'll be just wonderful, and she'll never say no."

* * *

Lothíriel ran the brush through her hair idly, lost in thought. She wondered why Éomer had not come to spend much time with her. He seemed to be spending plenty of time with Erchirion and Amrothos, and she wanted to know why. Perhaps they were up to one of their tricks again, and she should seek him out and warn him. _Who knows what the two of them could be plotting?_

There was a knock on her door. Thinking that it would be Éomer, Lothíriel smiled and called, "Come in."

Erchirion slipped into the room. "Hello, sister. Combing your hair? What a lovely activity," he said smoothly.

Lothíriel narrowed her eyes. "What is it? What do you want?"

Erchirion smiled sweetly, the very picture of innocence. "Nothing, sister, but I just ran into Éomer, and he said that he wanted to meet you, and I volunteered to get you for him."

Lothíriel frowned. "Why couldn't he just come here? He knows that my room is open to him."

Erchirion rolled is eyes. "This is _special_, my silly sister. He's planned something very _special_ for you, and you really don't want to keep him waiting and fretting, do you?"

Despite having made up her mind never to trust Erchirion, Lothíriel began to get interested. _Éomer has something special for me? I wonder what it is._ She stood up, and smiled back at her brother. "Very well, then." She flashed him a warning glance. "But if this is a trick, I'm going to kill you."

Erchirion held up his hands defensively. "I'm innocent, sister! Come, we shouldn't keep him waiting. I have a feeling it's something really special."

* * *

Lothíriel walked beside Erchirion, down the hallway, where they met Amrothos, who simply fell into step cheerfully. "I saw Éomer too," he said, "and I think you'll love what he has for you."

Lothíriel blushed. "What is it?" she asked, curious.

Erchirion shook his head. "Nope, you'll just have to wait! We're not going to spoil his lovely surprise, he worked so hard on it."

She nodded, but continued to wonder what it was that Éomer had had in store for her. No doubt it was something she would love; she loved everything that came from Éomer, but _what_ could it be? And she also began to wonder where her brothers were taking her… they definitely weren't leaving the building…

"Here we are!" Amrothos announced.

Lothíriel stared at the door before her. "But this is the…"

"Supply room," Erchirion finished. The door was yanked open with amazing speed, and Lothíriel tossed in most unceremoniously. The door was slammed shut and the lock turned with a click before she stood up.

She gave a cry of frustration and kicked the door violently. She had been locked in this room before, many years ago, and knew for a fact that trying to dismantle the door did not work here. "Erchirion! Amrothos! _Let me out this instance_!" she yelled, but there was no reply.

She sat down next to the door, crossed her arms, uncrossed them, and rested her head on her knees. There was nothing to do until the two of them decided to let her out again. But when they _did_ come back, she would make them pay.

* * *

"Now, we'll unlock you in an hour, all right?" Amrothos said, waving the key in front of Éomer's face. "You have plenty of time to ask her, so don't worry and for the love of the Valar, _do not_ say anything wrong."

"Dismantling the door doesn't work for this room, so don't try, all right?" Erchirion said. He shoved a little bunch of flowers into Éomer's hand. "Offer her these, she'll like it."

Éomer eyed the wilting flowers. "How long ago did you…"

"Never mind that," Amrothos said hastily. "You just go in and do your best, all right?"

Éomer swallowed and nodded. He still thought that he could have come up with something without the help of the two brothers, but they had just refused to take no for an answer, and at times they _could_ be very persuasive. _Well, let this work!_

He made his way to the door, the brothers hurrying behind him. Amrothos gave him a reassuring grin and unlocked the door. Éomer took a deep breath and stepped in.

The door slammed shut and a white light flashed before his eyes, blinding him. His hands automatically flew to his face, and the flowers fell to the ground lifelessly. "OW!" he yelped in pain, his face still in his hands.

"Éomer!" Lothíriel came to his side, still holding the candlestick. "Oh my goodness, I'm so, so sorry, I thought you were one of my brothers… and I wanted to get them back for what they had done to me… oh my goodness… I'm sorry! Are you hurt?"

Éomer spoke through his hands, his voice muffled. "I think you might have broken my nose…" He winced as he ran his fingers over it. "No, wait, it's all right. I just don't want to see what colour it is."

Lothíriel, her eyes much more adjusted to the darkness of the room, led him to a corner of the room, and they sat down on the ground. Éomer looked forlornly at the flowers on the floor, a little trampled, as in his shock, he had trod on a few. "Those flowers are certainly dead now."

Lothíriel laughed, squeezing his arm. "So, my brothers got you too?"

Éomer rubbed his nose. "No, actually. You did."

Lothíriel laughed. "I already apologised, Éomer. But… if they didn't get you, why are you in here? You didn't come here of your own accord?"

Éomer hesitated, trying to figure out his answer. "Well… not… really…"

"What is it, Éomer? What do you want to tell me?"

_Here goes nothing…_ "Actually your brothers came up with this idea to help me," Éomer began. Then he hesitated again.

"Help you? How on earth does the two of us being locked up in the supply room help you?"

"They said that it has to be memorable and special for you…"

"What? What has to be special?"

_Just do it_, Éomer told himself. _Otherwise, you'll lose your nerve, and you'll regret it_. "This." He cleared his throat. "Lothíriel… will… will you… will you marry me?"

He heard a gasp, then Lothíriel said, "Don't you trick me like my brothers, or I'll hit you again."

He took her hands and held them tightly. In the dimness of the room, he looked into her eyes, and said seriously, "I'm not tricking you, Lothíriel. I asked for your father's permission, and now I am asking you to please, _please_ consider becoming the Queen of Rohan, and my wife."

Lothíriel said nothing for a while, and Éomer was beginning to steel himself for a rejection, when he saw her smile, and felt her squeeze his hand. "What is there to consider?" she said softly. "My heart was yours, is yours, and will always be yours."

It was as if a dam had been broken, and the river released. Happiness and relief crashed down into Éomer's heart as a huge smile spread across his face. Pulling Lothíriel to him, he kissed her, pouring all the joy into her. _Life is perfect_, he thought.

* * *

When the two brothers returned an hour later, they found a supply room lighted with candles, a radiant, smiling future queen, and a king with a rather purple nose.

* * *

_I'm not exactly sure if they had supply rooms, but I assume they did. I mean, where else do you keep all the stuff? And anyway, a supply room sounded much better than a cleaning room. Also, it seemed more dignified for Éomer to get hit with a candlestick than a broomstick. So you see why I chose a supply room._


	26. A Cousin And A Sister

**Chapter 26 : A Cousin And A Sister**

* * *

_One month later…_

* * *

Lothíriel hugged Éowyn when she came to the top of the steps. "It's so good to see you again, Éowyn!" she exclaimed. "It's been so long since we last met."

"Yes, and soon you will be my sister, as well as a cousin!" Éowyn replied, laughing. She turned to Éomer. "I always knew you had good taste in women, brother!"

Lothíriel blushed and turned to Faramir as Éowyn hugged her brother. "Lovely to see you again, cousin. I missed you."

Faramir laughed. "You did? I thought you had much more to occupy your time," he teased. "Congratulations, cousin. I could not have wished better upon you."

The four entered the hall together, chatting pleasantly. The wedding would be in two weeks, and already had all the King's staff excited. The cooks were beside themselves planning the feast, and the seamstress and her assistants were delighted to have been asked to make Lothíriel's wedding dress, _and_ a new set of clothes for Éomer. The women were eagerly planning on the best way to decorate the hall, and what flowers would be the best. Faramir and Éowyn would be attending, and Lothíriel's whole family, and Isindil, and Legolas, and Gimli, and even Aragorn and Arwen had sent word saying that they would never miss such an occasion, which put the people involved in the wedding into a deeper state of anxiety and excitement.

Éomer would be making the formal announcement at the celebration tonight, but Lothíriel already had the feeling that the gossiping had started, and most of Edoras knew already anyway.

Benches and tables had already been arranged in the hall, for all the people who would be there at the celebration, and the four of them wound their way through. They were just about to enter Éomer's study when Diora, the seamstress, approached Lothíriel. Curtsying politely, she said in a soft voice, "May I request the presence of the princess for a moment? I need to take her measurements for the dress."

"Of course," Lothíriel replied, smiling. Her wedding dress. It felt like such a fairytale. She had never really thought of marriage before she met Éomer, and imagining herself in a wedding dress seemed a little too much for her imagination. But it was going to be real.

Éowyn took her hand. "Come, I will accompany you. Let's leave the men to talk of their boring manly things," she said lightly. "Diora's the best dressmaker I've ever met, she made my wedding dress too. Come, let us go."

The women walked off, Diora walking proudly before the other two; her head lifted high by the great compliment Éowyn had paid her. Lothíriel turned back to see Éomer smiling after her, and returned his smile.

* * *

"'Boring manly topics'." Faramir laughed. "That is just like Éowyn, always such regard for the talk of men!"

Éomer joined in the laughter. "My sister believes that men gossip more than women. I have no idea where she got that idea."

Faramir nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I heard that Legolas found himself a lovely elf maiden."

"Really?" Éomer asked, interested.

Faramir shrugged. "I'm not sure, could be just a rumour. I overheard the women gossiping while they were hanging up the sheets. Some of them sounded rather disappointed. Oh well, we'll be able to ask him when he comes for the wedding."

"Yes, we will," Éomer agreed. Then he frowned. "The wedding… I can hardly believe it sometimes. I can't believe I'm getting _married_. I never thought about it before."

Faramir patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, I never thought about getting married either. And now I'm married. It just happens."

"Does anything change much?"

"Well, you have to share your bed, if you have any disagreements, you can't just walk away and assume that she will disappear, or forget about it the next time you meet. But don't you worry, you'll learn to adapt fast. I know I did."

* * *

Lothíriel stood in the middle of the room, letting Diora take her measurements. Éowyn sat in the chair before her, smiling approvingly. "You're going to be a beautiful bride, Lothíriel," she said reassuringly. "I know it."

"That she will be, my lady." Diora gave her agreement. "And a better queen for our king there will never be."

Lothíriel blushed. "Thank you, Diora." She looked over at Éowyn. "Éowyn… what is it like to be married?"

Éowyn nodded knowingly. "I wondered the very same thing when I was marrying Faramir. Somehow I believed that there was going to be a huge change, and my whole life would be turned upside down, but that wasn't how it turned out. Marriage, for me, just means that I get to spend my days with the man I love. It's that simple." She paused. "But of course, there are _some_ changes."

"Like…?"

"I baked a cake once, when Faramir invited Legolas and some of the Elves to Emyn Arnen."

Lothíriel laughed. "Is that it, Éowyn?"

"For me to bake a cake willingly is a _great_ change, Lothíriel. Ask Éomer and he'll tell you it's true." Éowyn stepped forward as Diora announced that she had obtained all the measurements she needed, and hugged Lothíriel. "Don't worry about a thing, Lothíriel, you will be fine. Your life with my brother will be a good one."

* * *

The hall was filled to the brim with happy, cheerful people, awaiting the expected announcement from their king. Just before they ate, Éomer stood up, taking Lothíriel's hand. Looking over the faces of all his people, he smiled, and said, "Seeing all your expectant faces, I suppose you all already know what I am going to say. I journeyed to the city of Dol Amroth about a month before, and Princess Lothíriel has accepted my proposal, and has consented to be my wife."

A great cheer went up among the people, and Lothíriel turned red at such an overwhelming acceptance. Éomer smiled fondly at her, and kissed her on her forehead, which roused an even greater cheer, and a few whistles. Lothíriel thought that it was impossible to turn even redder than she already was.

The feast that had been prepared was most grand, and everyone tucked in without hesitation. Lothíriel sipped her wine and looked at all the people, and looked around the hall. When she married Éomer, these people would become her people, and this whole place would be her home. Of course, she would still be able to return to Dol Amroth, and the sea, but her home would be Rohan. Was she ready for such a change? She looked over at Éomer, who was laughing over something with Faramir, and something stirred in her heart. Of course she was ready. She had been waiting for it for so long.


	27. Marriage Jitters

_No real clue about how weddings went about in Rohan and wedding traditions and all that stuff, so I'm just totally making it up and hoping no walking Tolkien encyclopaedia will come and expose me for the little schmuck that I am!_

_To Cacilwen : Don't worry, there's no Legomance here! I've written 2 before and I've had enough. It's actually pretty ironic, if you think about what Faramir and Éomer were talking about directly before they started gossiping about Legolas. Hehe._

* * *

**Chapter 27 : Marriage Jitters**

* * *

_About two weeks later…_

* * *

Lothíriel stared out at the vast plains, sitting next to Éowyn, and Arwen, who had arrived the day before. Arwen had forbidden Lothíriel to call her "my Queen" any longer, saying that Lothíriel was soon to become a queen herself. Lothírel was glad for Arwen's warmth and friendship, and also grateful for the companionship of her two friends on the eve of her wedding. Following the tradition of Dol Amroth, the bride and groom would not meet the day before their marriage, which Lothíriel discovered was no simple thing; being under the same roof with Éomer made her want to be at his side every moment of the day. And so Éowyn and Arwen had decided to take her out riding, while Aragorn, Faramir and Imrahil kept Éomer very busy with plenty of kingly duties. Elphir and Isindil were off looking for Erchirion and Amrothos, who had said that they would be exploring the area, but had seemed to disappear. Faramir had seen them earlier, and had informed them, with a grin, that Éomer was having "marriage jitters", which made Lothíriel feel very jumpy and nervous. Which was why she was not sitting in a field beside her two friends, quietly nibbling on a piece of bread, and trying not to imagine all sorts of horrible things that could happen between now and her wedding.

"This day is passing very slowly," she finally remarked. "I can't remember having time pass so slowly before."

Arwen laughed and patted her hand. "Don't worry, it was the same for me. Despite having waited so long for Aragorn, time suddenly couldn't pass fast enough for me, and all I wanted was for the journeying to come to an end, and to see his face again. But it's not up to us to decide how long time passes."

Lothíriel looked at Arwen admiringly, and once more the great porcelain beauty facing the wind, her dark hair streaming out behind her, stunned her. It was common knowledge that no matter how happy Arwen was now, she was doomed, but that fact did not dim her radiance; in fact, it seemed to make her even more beautiful. "You are so strong, Arwen, to give up so much of yourself for Aragorn," Lothíriel couldn't help saying.

Arwen looked at her with a smile. "You think so now, Lothíriel, but if you were in my position, and had to make a choice for Éomer, I have no doubt that you would be as strong, and your choice as resolute as mine. It is not my strength that led to my decision, but the strength that my love for Aragorn gave me. I would lay down my life for him, and I'm sure that you and Éowyn would do the same for your loves."

Éowyn smiled and nodded. "She is right." Brushing her hair away from her eyes, Éowyn continued, "I never dreamt that I would ever leave Rohan, or lay down the sword once I found a way to pick it up, but the minute I saw Faramir I knew that I would leave it all behind, just to be with him."

Lothíriel kept her silence, thinking to herself. She couldn't think of a single thing she would not do for Éomer. _Perhaps they're right_. She shivered with anticipation for the new life that lay ahead of her.

* * *

Éomer toyed with the quill on his desk to keep his mind off what Faramir called his "marriage jitters". "Everything in Rohan is going just fine," he said to the men before him. "It's a great relief indeed."

"That is a great relief," Imrahil agreed. "You're carrying on the good work of your uncle."

Aragorn nodded encouragingly. "Gondor is fortunate to have such a strong ally."

Éomer smiled at Aragorn, Imrahil and Faramir. They had dealt with all political issues already, and he knew that now they were just trying to help take his mind off his nervousness. They were good friends, but loose talk about the comforts and happiness of the people weren't going to help today. _Another topic, perhaps?_ Éomer was just about to try to find one, when there was a knock on the door. "Enter," Éomer called, glad for the distraction. For the first time, he also noticed that the ink from the quill had been smudged all over his fingers, and replaced the quill hastily, trying fruitlessly to rub the ink off.

Éothain came in, and bowed. "My lords, Legolas of Ithilien has arrived."

The men stood up, and began to make their way out to greet Legolas. They found him, together with eleven other Elves, in the hall. He approached them with a broad smile. Being only among friends, there was no need for formalities. "It's good to be in Rohan," he said cheerfully. "Especially for such a happy occasion. Congratulations, Éomer, and may you have a long and happy life with your chosen love."

"Thank you, Legolas," Éomer replied gratefully. It made him feel better whenever he heard well wishes for his marriage expressed.

Legolas nodded. "I met the princess outside the hall just now. I was informed that the both of you are keeping the tradition of Dol Amroth. That is most lovely, blending the two cultures and traditions of Rohan and Dol Amroth. That is how it should be." He looked at Éomer, whose gaze had immediately shifted to the doors (he wondered if Lothíriel was still outside), and laughed. "She looked just as anxious as you do, Éomer." Now addressing Aragorn and Faramir, he said, "Is marriage as frightening as it looks?"

Faramir nodded gravely. "It is more frightening, in fact. Especially on the day before the wedding, as Éomer is no doubt finding out now."

"Perhaps it is not marriage that is frightening, but the idea of change. Forever _is_ a long time," Aragorn reasoned.

Legolas nodded in understanding. "No one here can comprehend the length of forever as well as I can," he said. He looked around. "Now, where is Gimli?"

"He has not yet arrived," Éomer said. "We're beginning to wonder what has happened to him."

Legolas laughed again. "Dwarves have never appreciated riding. No doubt he and those with him are still trudging over the lands!" he joked. "They should be here sometime soon, or we can just start the festivities without them!"

* * *

_The wedding is coming up, I kind of wrote this chapter to stall for time so I can plan it properly! Hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway._


	28. The Wedding

_To lady scribe of avandell and PopcornLeader : Yup, Legolas brought some Elves over to dwell in Ithilien after the War of the Ring so he's technically Legolas of Ithilien! Right? According to my logic, he is anyway. _

_I've only found a little bit on weddings, so I'll be making up a lot of things once again. Forgive me for any mistakes, let me know and I will try my best to correct them if I can't justify them._

_Ugh. Got a C for my English, which is incredibly frustrating. It's all the fault of the stupid comprehension passage that was incomprehensible._

* * *

**Chapter 28 : The Wedding**

* * *

Convinced that it was crooked, Lothíriel tugged the dress a little to the right, then to the left, then to the right again. She was just about to twitch it to the left once more when Éowyn remarked, "If you do that anymore, you're going to tear the dress."

Lothíriel's hands fell to her sides immediately, and she began to inspect her hair in the mirror, making sure that every single strand was where it was supposed to be.

Arwen came over and put her hands on Lothíriel's shoulders. "Don't be so anxious, you look lovely," she said in that soft, sweet voice that Aragorn had fallen so deeply in love with. "You will take Éomer's breath away. Trust me."

Lothíriel sighed and smiled. "I trust you, Arwen. It's just that I really want to look my best today."

"And you do," Éowyn said reassuringly. "You do, even if you can't see it for yourself. It's something that happens to every bride. Now, just relax, and everything will be all right."

Lothíriel sat down, looking at the two women with her. They looked so calm and seemed so wise, as if marriage added years of experience. She sighed again. There was nothing to do but to trust them. She knew that they had to be right. Their weddings days hadn't been so long ago.

* * *

"Now, you know your vows, don't you?" Faramir asked.

"Yes…"

"And you _can_ address your people, can't you?" Aragorn quizzed.

"Yes…"

Faramir grinned. "Then I don't see any problem!" he said. "You'll be just fine."

Aragorn agreed, and just as Éomer was about to say something, the door opened, and admitted Erchirion and Amrothos. "Oh no, what are you going to do to me?" Éomer moaned.

Erchirion pretended to be offended. "Can't we wish our future brother-in-law good luck on his wedding day?" He extended his hand. "Good luck, brother. You'll be just fine."

"That's what I said!" Faramir nodded, grinning. "See, Éomer? Nothing to worry about."

Éomer eyed Erchirion's hand, unsure of whether it was safe to take it. He couldn't imagine what a handshake could do, but he wouldn't put it past them to try something totally unheard of. Finally, though, he decided that he would risk it, and took Erchirion's hand, shaking it firmly.

Nothing happened.

Éomer smiled, and said, "Thank you, brothers. I'm glad you came to wish me good luck."

"You're most welcome," Amrothos said graciously. He sobered down, for one of the few times of his life, and said sincerely, "We couldn't have hoped for a better husband for our sister."

"You take care of her, mind," Erchirion said. "She deserves it."

"Of course I will," Éomer said. "I can promise you that from now on I will never let any harm befall her."

Erchirion nodded, satisfied. "That's good. Elphir wanted to come, but he's with Father now. Father, for some reason, has the jitters. We don't understand it. But Elphir said to give you his best wishes, and all those other nice things we said to you."

"He also said something along the lines of decapitation and dismemberment if you ever hurt Lothíriel," Amrothos piped up.

Erchirion rubbed his hands together. "Well, now that we've delivered the message, I suppose we will go to the hall now. You're supposed to be in a few moments, anyway. We'll see you there, all right? Good luck, brother."

The two disappeared just as quickly as they appeared, and Éomer smiled. Somehow, just listening to their cheerful tones had helped him to calm down. _I'll be just fine. What's to fear, anyway? After this, I can really spend the rest of my life with Lothíriel._ Something more wonderful Éomer could not imagine.

* * *

A knock came on the door, and Imrahil entered Lothíriel's room. "It's time, my daughter," he said tenderly.

Éowyn and Arwen nodded, wished Lothíriel luck, and excused themselves, to take their places beside their husbands. Lothíriel took a deep breath and turned to face her father. Imrahil's breath caught, and he felt as if time had gone back to more than two decades ago. He recalled that day so vividly that tears stung his eyes. "Lothíriel," he said in a whisper, "you look just like your mother did on our wedding day."

His daughter's eyes shone with tears as she flung her arms around his neck. "I love you, Father," she whispered. "I love you."

Imrahil held his daughter close to him, wondering when he would be able to do so again. She had grown up so fast. Too fast, it seemed. But this was good for her. She was marrying someone who loved her deeply, and would treat her like the treasure she was. He pulled back, holding her at arms length. Lothíriel's wedding dress was the loveliest he had seen, the skirts forming a pure white pool at her feet. Her dark hair fell to her hips, curling lightly at the ends. Her lovely face was covered in a soft, translucent veil. Slowly he began to see the differences between his late wife and his daughter. Lothíriel was younger, and she did not have the smoky blue eyes of her mother, inheriting Imrahil's own brown eyes instead. In some ways she was lovelier, as if her excitement and youth had made her the most beautiful person on Middle-earth. "We'll miss you in Dol Amroth, Lothíriel. Remember Dol Amroth always, and visit us from time to time. Don't forget the sea, daughter."

"How could I ever forget, Father? Dol Amroth, and the sea, are so much a part of me." Lothíriel smiled, then nodded. "Father, I am ready," she said softly.

Imrahil nodded, and offered her his arm. "Let's go, then, daughter."

* * *

Éomer looked on in awe as Imrahil led his daughter down the aisle that ran down the middle of the hall. He had never seen Lothíriel so beautiful; he could scarcely believe it. He felt so blessed to see her walking down that aisle towards him, knowing that soon she would be his wife, and nothing would stand between them again.

Lothíriel's face was veiled, but Éomer could see the shy smile on her face, and her downcast eyes. He could barely wait till she came to stand beside him. He could barely wait till he could hold her in his arms, and kiss her.

* * *

The walk seemed to take forever. Lothíriel kept her eyes down, barely daring to lift her gaze. She saw her friends, though. Freda, who had loved and given up so that Éomer and Lothíriel could be together. Éothain beside her, loyal, faithful Éothain, Éomer's best friend. Isindil, who had grown to become like a second father to her. Legolas, that tall, graceful Elf who was always eager to hear of the Sea. Gimli, sweet Gimli, who had arrived in Rohan at dawn. Faramir and Éowyn, hand in hand, beaming at her. Her dearest brothers, Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos. What good memories she had shared with them! Aragorn and Arwen, at the most honoured places in the hall, looking upon the whole proceeding serenely.

And finally she lifted her eyes, and met Éomer's gaze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught. She had never seen him so handsome; she could scarcely believe it. _The Valar have blessed me indeed, giving me such a wonderful man as a husband._ She felt like running towards him, and throwing herself into his arms.

* * *

Imrahil and Lothíriel reached the front of the hall, after what seemed to the couple as an eternity. Imrahil put Lothíriel's hand in Éomer's, took his place before the couple, facing everyone in the hall. "Today, the King of the Mark, Éomer, son of Éomund, will take the Princess of Dol Amroth, and my daughter, Lothíriel for his wife," Imrahil said. "In the presence of all gathered today, they will speak their vows."

Éomer's voice rang out in the hall. "I, Éomer of Rohan, will take Lothíriel of Dol Amroth as my wife, and vow to love her and cherish her to the end of our days."

He smiled at her, and Lothíriel was surprised by the clarity of her own voice. "I, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, will accept Éomer of Rohan as my husband, to love and to serve till the end of our days."

Amid the cheers of the people, Éomer took both Lothíriel's hands in his, and kissed her, their first kiss as man and wife.

* * *

Lothíriel looked around the hall, everyone having eaten their full, and the festivities truly beginning. The hall was noisy with music, chatter and laughter, and Lothíriel felt so attached to every single person beneath the roof of the hall. They had witnessed the happiest day of her life, and she felt an unexplainable love for each person.

She smiled to see Elphir dancing with Freda, laughing and talking as they moved. "They look happy, don't they?" she remarked as Éomer came to stand behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.

"Are you so eager to become a matchmaker, my love?" he asked with a laugh. "It always seems to be something all married women want to do."

Lothíriel leaned her head against his shoulder. "When one finds such happiness, the only natural reaction is to find ways to share it," she said.

Faramir, Éowyn and Legolas approached them. Faramir and Éowyn's faces were flushed with the dancing, and the beams on their faces could not possibly get any wider. "Lovely festivities," Faramir said. He took Lothíriel's hand. "I'm so happy for you, cousin."

"As we all are," Legolas added.

"Well, Legolas, if what I've heard is correct, we could be very happy for you very soon," Éomer said slyly.

Legolas frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We heard that you've found yourself a lovely elf maiden to spend your eternity with," Faramir said. "That's what I heard in Ithilien, anyway."

Legolas coloured, and Lothíriel wondered if it had just been her imagination, or if the tips of his ears really _did_ turn pink. "No, no, nothing of the sort!" he said, shaking his head. "I haven't met anyone. If I had, you could be sure that you would know of it!"

"Men and their gossiping!" Éowyn said scornfully. Her husband merely laughed and kissed her forehead.

Legolas laughed too, and then grinned at Éomer and Lothíriel. "Why aren't the two of your dancing, enjoying yourselves? This is your wedding celebration, why are you standing around?"

Éomer grinned. "As a matter of fact, Legolas, I was just about to ask my lovely bride to dance." He looked down at Lothíriel, his arms still encircling her waist. "Will you dance, my Queen?"

"If you let me go," Lothíriel replied with a laugh.

"Well, you'll have to excuse us, then," Éomer said to the rest, letting go of Lothíriel's waist, and taking her hand.

* * *

Éowyn looked fondly after her brother. He looked so happy. She had not seen him smile and laugh in this way for many long years. "Your cousin has worked magic over my brother's life," she commented to her husband. "I can barely remember the last time he was so happy."

Faramir nodded in agreement. "They deserve every bit of happiness they are feeling now. Things have stood in their way, but not anymore."

"I'm glad."

* * *

The night passed in a joyful blur, but soon the hall began to empty, and things began to get quiet once more. Éomer and Lothíriel stood by the doors, bidding everyone a good night, and finally all who were left in the hall were their personal guests.

"Well, may you find every bit of happiness that you deserve," Elphir said, kissing Lothíriel. "We'll miss you, sister. Be happy here."

"Of course I will, brother," Lothíriel replied, smiling and hugging her eldest brother.

Imrahil nodded at Éomer. "You two should get a good rest," he said. "Tomorrow, there'll be duties to fulfil." Smiling at his daughter, he continued, "And Lothíriel, good luck at being a Queen, it's not as easy as it looks."

"I agree with that," Arwen remarked, hugging Lothíriel one more time. "But we'll be here whenever you need any help."

Éomer and Lothíriel thanked everyone, touched by all their concern and love.

* * *

Éomer and Lothíriel walked down the hall hand in hand, but Lothíriel stopped at the door of the room. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never really been in the king's room. Éomer smiled and pulled her inside. "This will be your room now," he said.

Lothíriel looked around. "It needs flowers," she remarked.

Éomer laughed, and pulled her close to kiss her, the perfect kiss to end the perfect day.


	29. Elfwine

_To LOTR-nutcase : Wow… you're right! I do use a lot of same words over and over again very close together! I never really realised that, I just type and type and type lol. Thanks for telling me, I'll pay more attention to that now._

_To Carcilwen Thorned-Rose : I always thought pheasants were just for eating! Hahaha… can they fly? I mean, they always just sounded like fancy chickens to me._

_To Elven Sword : Haven't decided about the runaway baddie! If they meet him he's gonna get it but if they don't, then he's a lucky dude._

_Hehe… since I have not begun talking about the story ending yet, of course there's more! =0) Since I ended my last story (Love's Mysteries) at the wedding, I thought I'd take this story beyond that. I mean, things don't just _end_ at the wedding, they begin! And of course we must give dear Elfwine some mention!_

* * *

**Chapter 29 : Elfwine**

* * *

_Two years later…_

* * *

Éomer paced the hallway anxiously, trying to block out the screams that were coming from his room. _Is it supposed to be so long? _Lothíriel had gone into labour what seemed an eternity ago, and he had been most unceremoniously chucked out of the room. "There is no place for a man here," Caira had told him briskly before the door was slammed in his face. With each piercing cry of pain he winced, and once he slammed his fist on the floor as he plopped himself down against the wall, which simply resulted in his own yelp.

The door opened, and Freda slipped out. She looked around for him, and jumped a little when she realised that he was just sitting on the floor by her feet. He began to get up, demanding to know what was happening, but she motioned for him not to move, and plopped down next to him. "Caira said that she had all the help she needed inside, and suggested that I come out and accompany you, before you go mad all by yourself."

"Good suggestion," he replied hollowly. "But what's going on? Is she all right?"

"She's just like any other woman would be in such circumstances," Freda told him calmly. "In pain. But don't worry, plenty of women before her have survived such a trial, and plenty more will. Everything will be fine." She studied his face, pale and drawn. "You look exhausted. I think you should get some rest. It could be an hour or two more…"

"An _hour_? _Two_?" Éomer paid no attention to Freda's advice. "That long? That's how long she'll be in pain?" His heart ached at the thought. It seemed to him that such pain could only be justified on a battlefield. He grimaced at the memory of the short war he had fought in against the Haradrim with Aragorn. He had been wounded there, and had to be brought back to Rohan on a stretcher after being treated at the Houses of Healing. It hadn't been very serious, but he remembered the pain, and shuddered to think of it. Now he could imagine the same sort of pain inflicted on his wife. "If only the wives could just deliver the children while the husbands suffered the pain."

Freda smiled. "That is a wonderful idea, my lord Éomer. But I cannot see how you're going to make that happen. I think you really _do_ need some rest. You need to keep your strength. The queen will need you later."

Éomer was about to protest when a heartrending scream pierced the night, followed by a foreign wail. Éomer and Freda jumped to their feet, but Freda signalled for Éomer not to try to enter the room. "Caira will come out for us when everything is taken care of," she said. "Then you can see your wife, and…" She smiled. "…Your child."

Éomer swallowed. _My child._ For nine months he had thought of almost nothing else, and yet this night it had completely slipped his mind, so preoccupied was he in worrying for Lothíriel. Suddenly his mouth went dry, and he thought that his knees were shaking. He was a father, and he could hardly believe it.

Just as he was in the middle of his panic attack, the door opened, and out came Caira, cradling a little bundle. She gave him a triumphant smile. "This hasn't been easy on your wife," she said. "But congratulations, my lord, you have a beautiful baby boy, an heir to the throne of Rohan." She held the baby out to him. "Be careful now… mind his head."

Éomer held the baby as gently as he could, focusing on not dropping the child. Caira was right; he _was_ a beautiful baby boy. "Thank you for everything, Caira," Éomer said gratefully.

"It is my duty, my Lord Éomer," Caira said graciously. She gestured into the room. "I believe the queen is waiting for the both of you."

Éomer nodded, and entered the room after Caira.

Lothíriel's was breathing heavily, her eyes closed and her face pale with exhaustion. She opened her eyes when Éomer crossed the room and sat down on the bed by her side. "Éomer…"

Her forehead was glistening with sweat, and Éomer reached out to smooth her hair back. "Keep your strength, Lothíriel," he said gently.

"I want to sit up. Just a little," Lothíriel said softly.

Éomer glanced over at the healer, and Caira nodded, coming over to help Lothíriel up. "You've done well, my Queen," she said reassuringly. "Your son will be a very strong lad, I can tell."

Éomer placed the baby into Lothíriel's arms, and wrapped his arms around his wife and child. Lothíriel smiled wearily, her head resting on Éomer's shoulder, and held her son close. Caira, knowing that she was no longer needed, exited the room silently, not wanting to disturb the family. No one noticed.

"What should we name our son?" Éomer asked, kissing Lothíriel's cheek.

Lothíriel smiled at the lovely child. "Elfwine."

* * *

_This chapter is relatively shorter compared to the others but I thought that the birth of Elfwine definitely deserved a chapter all by itself!_


	30. To Become A Mother

_Haven't posted anything for quite a while! Feels strange… Oh well, this is the writer's block that just seems to have to happen at least once in a story._

_Did quite a bunch of "real life" research for this chapter. Meaning that I gaped and gawked and stared at a lot of kids. You know, it's actually a very good thing to do when you're sitting on the bus. If you love kids like I do, that is. Kids are just so cute, with their big eyes and soft hair and their curiosity in everything around them._

_Also doing a bunch of reading. To find out how kids behave at one month old and all that stuff. Pretty interesting actually._

* * *

**Chapter 30 : To Be A Mother**

* * *

_One month later…_

* * *

All attention was directed at the little rosy-cheeked baby who was (at the moment) nestled in the arms of his grandfather, and looking around at everyone else as if shocked to realise that there were more people in the world other than his parents and Caira.

"He's the sweetest baby I've ever seen!" Éowyn declared.

"Of course he is!" was Elphir's contribution.

"It's Faramir's loss that he isn't here to see this bundle of love," Erchirion commented. "Pity he had to go to Minas Tirith."

"Yes, he knows that. He was very sorry indeed, to be unable to see his little nephew," Éowyn replied.

"I can't believe I have a grandson!" Imrahil finally said. He had been speechless since he saw the child.

Éomer and Lothíriel just stood in silence, his arm around her waist, smiles on their faces. There was no need for words as their family members admired their son. Elfwine was only a month old, and he had already brought so many changes into their lives.

Of course, there were the sleepless nights. Lothíriel had completely rejected the idea of having a nurse take care of her son, and Éomer had agreed. That meant that they suffered nights of waking up to the baby's cries. But it was getting better now, and Éomer thought that it was worth it, just to wake up in the morning to see his son's peaceful, sleeping face.

Since his son's birth, Éomer had become even more focused on his work and duties, if that was possible. He was now always determined to solve any problem as quickly and efficiently as possible, and to avoid long, dragging meetings and councils, just so he could have more time to spend with the child.

Lothíriel, too, had changed. She was no longer as impulsive, spending less time riding and having fun, and more time attending to the needs of her child and her husband. At Éomer's request, she attended councils and meetings with him, at times even speaking up with suggestions and opinions that were greatly valued by her husband, and accepted respectfully by the other men. Éomer's grip around his wife's waist tightened, and he smiled at her proudly, glad that he had such a blessing in his life. _Two blessings_, he corrected himself, looking at Elfwine, now smiling contentedly in the arms of his strong, determined aunt (who seemed to have been reduced to a pile of slush before the happy child).

"Would it be wonderful when he gets older!" Amrothos was saying. "Then Erchirion and I could take him on fantastic adventures and teach him about the ways of life and how to have fun…"

Imrahil spoke before either Éomer or Lothíriel even opened their mouths. "No," he said firmly. "You two will _not_ be the ones teaching him about the ways of life. Two troublemakers are enough."

Erchirion laughed good-naturedly. "I suppose that's a wise decision, Father," he admitted. "I don't think we'd want to have a young child following us everywhere, anyway."

"I'm glad to hear that," Lothíriel joked, taking Elfwine from Éowyn. She kissed her son's forehead. "You are a lucky one, lovely Elfwine," she said to the child. "To have so many who love you from your first breath. And you will grow to be just like your father, strong, firm… and stubborn."

Éomer laughed. "Stubborn?"

"Stop saying boring things to your son, sister," Amrothos ordered. "When he grows up, he'll have to hear plenty of boring things. Now, just let him enjoy being a carefree baby."

The hall echoed with the unrestrained laughter of the joyous family.

* * *

Éowyn sat on the bed, watching with a smile as Lothíriel put Elfwine to sleep. When sleep finally claimed the child, Éowyn said softly, "You are a wonderful mother."

Lothíriel smiled, sitting down next to her sister-in-law. "Thank you. And one day I'm sure you will be a wonderful mother as well. In fact, I am rather surprised you and Faramir have not had a child already."

Éowyn blushed, looking down at her fingers. "Faramir is eager to be a father, and I would love to have a child, but sometimes I just worry. I've always been wild, preferring to ride horses and practice sword fighting with the men than cooking and sewing with the women. What would it be like for a child to grow up under my care? I've never had any experience with children."

Lothíriel took her hand and squeezed it. "I saw you with Elfwine today, sister, and you managed very well. When you have a child, things will change more than you know, but I'm sure you can manage it. I did. It is more difficult than words can express, but easier than what it seems." Lothíriel laughed. "My cousin Faramir has always been a good judge of character, and people, and he married you. Don't you think that means that there's some good in your "wildness"? Don't you worry anymore, sister, you will be an excellent mother."

Éowyn beamed at Lothíriel's words, and pulled her into a hug. "It's so wonderful to speak with you again, Lothíriel. I can always tell you anything and everything, can't I?"

"Always," Lothíriel promised.

* * *

_Short chapter! Slowly but surely trying to overcome writer's block._


	31. Elfwine's First Journey

**Chapter 31 : Elfwine's First Journey**

* * *

_Five years later…_

* * *

"Uncle Erchirion! Uncle Amrothos!"

Erchirion was almost bowled over by the enthusiastic ball of energy that launched itself at knees. "Whoa!" he yelled, grabbing onto Amrothos for support. He looked down and picked up the hyper, grinning child. "What have you been eating, Elfwine? You're getting too strong for me!"

Elfwine giggled with childish delight. "I'm the strongest boy in Rohan!" he boasted.

"No, _I'm_ the strongest boy now!" Amrothos began to tickle the child.

Elfwine shrieked, laughing helplessly. "You're… not… a… boy!" he managed to gasp between his peals of laughter.

"Stop tickling him while I'm carrying him!" Erchirion yelled. "He kicks!"

"You two have just arrived in Rohan and already you're creating a racket."

"Mother!" Elfwine struggled in Erchirion's arms, wanting to get down to run towards his mother.

The two brothers grinned at their sister. Now twenty-seven, she was much more a woman, and a regal queen. They had not seen her for a year, and it seemed that she had blossomed even further during that time, if it was indeed possible. The maturity that she had gained did not dull her beauty; in fact, she seemed even lovelier because of it.

"That's what we're here for, my Lady," Amrothos said, bowing exaggeratedly. "We heard that Rohan was lacking in laughter and enjoyment, and so we thought we'd lend you our expertise."

"There's no lack of laughter here, I can assure you!" Éomer walked up to them, a smile on his face. "But you are welcome, anyway." He laughed, winking. "No doubt exiled from Dol Amroth?"

"Oh no, no," Erchirion said, shaking his head. "We're too valuable to Dol Amroth to be exiled!"

Éomer raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Lothíriel waved away the bantering between the men with a laugh, picking up her grimy five-year-old son. "Come inside, dinner's just about to be served, and I think a little man here needs to be washed."

Elfwine groaned and began fumbling about for excuses, but Lothíriel paid him no attention and carried him up the stairs, disappearing into the hall. The men followed behind.

"It's nice to see Rohan again," Amrothos said. "Erchirion and I were getting a little tired of making trouble in Dol Amroth."

"So you decided to bring your trouble to Rohan?" Éomer laughed. "Is that wise?"

"Who said anything about bringing trouble to Rohan?" Erchirion said defensively. "We're here to see our little nephew."

Éomer smiled fondly at the mention of his son. "Elfwine is intelligent, and strong, but sometimes I think he has far too much energy. He's always out running about somewhere."

"Sounds like what I did when I was his age," Erchirion said.

"I have no doubt, Erchirion. No doubt at all."

* * *

Elfwine sat at the table next to his mother at dinner, sitting on a few cushions to enable him to eat properly. Freda (now serving as Lothíriel's lady, and also as Elfwine's nurse) had scrubbed him clean, and had asked him to do his best to keep himself clean. He didn't see the fun of staying clean all the time, but his father seemed to be managing it rather well, and so Elfwine thought that he would give it a try as well. After all, his father _was_ the greatest man in Rohan, if not in the whole Middle-earth.

He tried not to fidget in his seat as they waited patiently for dinner to be served. He was hungry, as could only be expected after a day of play. He had been near the stables with the sons of some of the soldiers. When they weren't playing their own games, they would sit leaning against the stables and watch the soldiers practise their fighting. One day, he was going to be a great warrior, just like his father. He had seen Éomer training with the men. _Father is unbeatable_, he thought with pride. And one day he would be too. He would start learning how to fight the moment he could hold a sword. Now his parents still claimed that he was too little, although he couldn't see how that could be possible; he was five years old! But one day he would be the best warrior Rohan had ever seen, and he would win great wars for his country, and everyone would be proud of him, especially his parents…

"Elfwine, aren't you hungry?"

Elfwine shook himself and looked up at his mother. Engrossed in his daydreaming, he had not realised that dinner had already been served. "Of course I'm hungry, Mother!" he said cheerfully, picking up his spoon and digging in immediately.

Satisfied, Éomer turned to his brothers-in-law. "Other than seeing Elfwine here, what else brings you to Rohan?"

The brothers exchanged glances. "You see, this is why he's our brother-in-law. He's sharp," Amrothos said to Erchirion.

Erchirion nodded, and grinned. "We're here with very good news, and an invitation for you to Dol Amroth, to attend Elphir's wedding."

Elfwine looked up from his dinner, shocked. "Uncle Elphir's getting _married_?" he asked incredulously, a little scandalised. All girls (other than Freda and his mother) were disgusting. How could anyone _want_ to be stuck together with one?

"Elphir's getting married!" Lothíriel's tone was a lot happier than her son's.

Amrothos nodded. "A lovely maiden from Minas Tirith. Her name is Maura. Our dear brother has been besotted with her for about a year and half now."

"Then why have I not heard of this?" Lothíriel wanted to know. "A year and a half is a rather long time, and I've spoken with Elphir during that time."

"Elphir asked all of us to keep it secret, for some reason that we cannot possibly imagine. He's a strange one, he is," Erchirion replied, shrugging.

"I think he didn't want you to tease?" Amrothos suggested.

An impish grin spread across Lothíriel's face, a reminder of girlish days in the past. "I wouldn't have teased him!" she protested. "Not much, anyway."

"I would have," Éomer volunteered.

All this mattered little to Elfwine. "Uncle Elphir's getting _married_?" he asked again. "To a _girl_?"

Amrothos turned to his nephew. "Yes, Elfwine, Elphir is getting married to a girl. You see, men can only get married to women. You don't see men marrying their horses, do you?"

Elfwine made a face. He thought that horses were much more preferable to soft, crying, whining girls.

Erchirion laughed. "Come, Elfwine, one day you'll meet a girl who makes you do strange, unexplainable things, and you'll be finding all sorts of ways to marry her."

Elfwine shook his head resolutely. "No," he said, "I will never get married! Girls are disgusting!"

* * *

After dinner, Freda entered the hall to take Elfwine home with her for an hour. That had been the arrangement for two years. Everyday after Elfwine had had his dinner, he would go over to Freda and Éothain's home, and Éothain would entertain the child with tales of his escapades with Éomer. Some were exaggerated to amuse the child, but others had no need to be dramatised; they had truly been that dangerous and exciting. But out of all the accounts that Éothain recounted (or sometimes even made up), Elfwine's favourite was how his father had saved his mother from kidnappers. The adults could never really understand it, but Elfwine thought that his mother having been kidnapped before was the most amazing thing he had ever heard. However, he was always disappointed with the fact that the third kidnapper had got away.

"It isn't fair that he could just run away!" he would protest.

"No, it isn't," Éomer would agree. "But he has not given us anymore trouble, and perhaps he deserves our forgiveness."

Elfwine always frowned at this, thinking hard, before declaring, "If he wants to hurt Mother again, _I_ will take care of him!"

The thought of her little boy so eager to protect her and fight for her brought warmth to Lothíriel's heart, and she would always pull him close to her whenever he said that.

As he walked hand-in-hand out of the hall with Freda, Lothíriel turned back to her brothers. "So, when is the wedding?"

"Two months," Amrothos replied. "Maura's still in Minas Tirith, but she'll be travelling to Dol Amroth soon, I believe. So, are you going to come?"

"Of course, I can't possibly miss my brother's wedding, can I?" Lothíriel hesitated. "But what of Elfwine? I don't want to leave him in Edoras while Éomer and I make the journey to Dol Amroth."

"That's all right, Lothíriel," Éomer spoke up. "We can bring him. I think some travelling would do him some good. Elfwine's not _that_ little. We won't be travelling too fast anyway. It would be good for him to see Dol Amroth, and the sea. Let him see something other than the plains of Rohan."

And so that was settled. Elfwine would be making his first big journey.

* * *

_Was browsing around and thought that Maura was a nice Irish name. Hehehe._


	32. Elfwine and Elboron

_Gosh, I love little kiddies, don't you?_

* * *

**Chapter 32 : Elfwine and Elboron**

* * *

Elfwine was riding with his mother on her stallion, and he stared about him in wonder as they approached the gates of Dol Amroth. The gate was majestic, tall, and a beautiful pure white. In fact, the whole city seemed to be of the purest white. Elfwine had never seen anything like this before. "This is Dol Amroth?" he whispered to his mother.

Lothíriel smiled at the awe in her son's voice. "Yes, Elfwine. This is Dol Amroth," she said. "And this is where I was born, and where I lived before I met your father."

Elfwine had never thought about that before. The thought that his parents hadn't been together the whole time had never occurred to him before, but he said nothing about that. His attention had been drawn to the gates, which were opening slowly. His father and uncles were riding in front of them, and Éomer turned to wave at him as they rode into the city. Elfwine waved back, now excited. The boys back in Edoras would be so envious of his adventure!

People gathered to see them riding in, and murmurs ran through the crowd when they saw Lothíriel and her son.

"Is that our Princess Lothíriel?" a girl of about fifteen asked her mother.

Her mother nodded. "Yes, that is Lothíriel, but she's the Queen of Rohan now. And that must be her little son, Prince Elfwine!"

Elfwine overheard that, and gave the two a friendly grin. "Mother, they know about me!"

"Of course they do," Lothíriel replied. "You have family here; a family that is very proud of you."

Elfwine looked ahead, and his jaw dropped to see the Prince's hall. It was the tallest building in the city, and like everything else, was a pearly white, and that included the stairs. Before the stairs stood quite a few people. Elfwine recognised his grandfather, and his uncle Elphir. There was a couple there that looked somewhat familiar to him, but he could not recall who they were. Holding on to the woman's hand was a little boy who looked to be about three years old.

Elfwine waited as his mother dismounted, and then she lifted him out of the saddle, setting him on the ground. He took her hand as they approached the others.

Lothíriel gave Imrahil a hug, and then he knelt down to kiss Elfwine's forehead. "You've grown so much in a year!" he said admiringly, and Elfwine grinned with pride.

Elphir swept him up in his arms, and Elfwine frowned. "Uncle Elphir, I still don't understand why you want to marry a girl," he said reprovingly.

Elphir laughed. "I'm afraid it will be something you will not understand for many years. I'm sorry I can't explain it to you."

Lothíriel was talking to the familiar-looking couple, and now she waved to her son. "Come, Elfwine! Come and meet your aunt and uncle from Ithilien."

Elphir put Elfwine down, and he went over obediently to his mother. "This is your uncle Faramir, and your aunt Éowyn. You've met them before, three years ago, but I don't suppose you remember now," she said.

Elfwine looked up at the smiling couple, and smiled back. "I remember a little, Mother," he said.

"He looks like his father," Faramir said with a laugh. He winked at Lothíriel. "You have to be careful; soon there'll be plenty of girls chasing after him!"

"Yeuch!" Elfwine exclaimed, and the little boy standing next to Éowyn did the same. They eyed each other, and finally Elfwine gave him a friendly smile. At least there would be someone here to play with.

"You haven't met before, but this is your cousin, Elboron," Éowyn said. "Say hello to your cousin, Elboron."

Elboron stepped forward confidently, now that he knew that his cousin was friendly, and stuck out his hand. The two children shook hands solemnly, bringing a smile to the faces of all the adults around.

* * *

Elboron and Elfwine sat on the cliff, looking out at the sea. Both had never seen the sea before. Lothíriel had told Elfwine about it during their journey, and now he could see that his mother was right. He liked the sea too; it was very different from the plains in Rohan. Elfwine glanced at Elboron. _For a little boy, he's all right to spend time with_, he reflected. (Elfwine, like many other children, felt that he was very old and wise, and to him, two years was a huge difference.)

"Are you excited for the wedding?" Elboron finally asked. "My mother said that it would be a lovely occasion."

"The adults seem happy about it, so I suppose it must be fun," Elfwine replied. "I haven't been to a wedding before."

"Neither have I," Elboron said, and the two lapsed into silence again. They had been asked to keep out of trouble, and were trying their very best to do so. But just sitting around wasn't much fun. In fact, both boys were finding it very, very boring.

Elfwine decided to raise a subject. "Do you like fighting?"

Elboron nodded enthusiastically. "I'm not allowed to touch a sword yet, but I like to watch my father fight. My mother can fight too!"

"My father told me that Mother learned to fight, but she hardly ever touches a sword. I haven't seen her fighting before. But Father is the best," Elfwine said proudly.

Elboron was silent for awhile, then said, "_My_ father is the best. I'm sure he can beat yours."

"He cannot!" Elfwine retorted indignantly, insulted that someone even had the audacity to _think_ that.

"He can!" Elboron insisted. "I've never seen _anyone_ better than my father."

"My father is the best!"

"No!"

"YES!"

And that was the beginning of their first fistfight.

* * *

"Elfwine!"

"Elboron!"

Both mothers were horrified. Their sons stood before them, dirty and messy, despite all warnings to keep themselves clean and out of trouble. The bright smiles on the two boys' faces turned into sheepish grins.

"What in the name of the Valar happened to the both of you?" Lothíriel demanded.

Both Elfwine and Elboron stumbled over each other trying to explain themselves. "We were just…"

"We had an argument…"

"There was a fight…"

"But it's all right now…"

The door at the side of the hall opened, and the men came striding out, coming to a complete halt when they saw the two boys.

"What's happened?" Faramir asked, eyeing the two very embarrassed children with mild amusement.

Éowyn turned to her husband, hands on her hips. "These two little princes have been fighting," she stated disapprovingly.

"Oh… well, who won…" Éomer caught his wife's glare and changed his statement swiftly. "I mean, that's not right, boys. Not right at all." But it was clear to Elfwine that his father was not really angry.

"Apologise to each other, the two of you," Imrahil said sternly. Clearly, his greater experience at parenting enabled him to do the right thing without a wife's reproach.

"We already did, sir," Elboron said meekly.

"We're all right now," Elfwine added.

Amrothos cut in before anyone could reply. "Well, I think it's very good to see that their lives as princes haven't made them soft. Fighting is something every boy needs in his childhood, that's what I think." He grinned at the two little ones. "These two can still stand without help, which is…"

"Which is more than you can say, that time when you fought with me when _you_ were five," Erchirion cut in.

"I wasn't going to say that," Amrothos said, frowning at his brother. "I was saying that since the two of them can stand without help, it means that they aren't really hurt, and so all they need is some cleaning up, and they'll be fine again. Don't you agree?"

"All right," Lothíriel said grudgingly. "But no more fighting!"

"Don't let me catch the two of you up to such business again!" Éowyn added. "Freda is waiting for the both of you in your room. Don't keep her waiting too long. Off you go, then."

Elfwine and Elboron nodded obediently, and hurried off to the room they were sharing.

* * *

Freda, good-tempered as always, accepted two dirty boys, even though she had been expecting two clean ones.

However, she wasn't as good-tempered when she realised that the patch of dirt on Elfwine's left arm wasn't a patch of dirt at all, but a bruise, and that the blue tinge under Elboron's right eye couldn't be removed.

* * *

_Whether Faramir or Éomer is a better fighter is a very debatable topic with no clear ending, and so I shall leave the result of the fistfight to your own speculation.  
I, for one, like to think that they eventually allowed it to be a draw when they both got tired of fighting._


	33. Reminiscing

**Chapter 33 : Reminiscing**

* * *

Maura arrived at Dol Amroth the next day, and everyone was eager to meet her, including the two boys who were very interested in seeing who was this remarkable woman, such that Elphir would want to spend the rest of his life with her.

Maura could not be said to be a beauty, but she was pretty in her own right, with her light brown hair and hazel eyes. She was shy meeting so many new and important people at first, but quickly opened up, accepting the fact that soon they would be her family. It was clear that Elphir loved her dearly, and that the feeling was mutual.

That night, the two children were not allowed to sit at the table, and were whisked away by Freda to eat in their room, for punishment of having tried to steal cakes from the kitchens.

Éowyn shook her head, smiling. "Perhaps the two of them should be separated. I have no idea what to do with them."

"You don't have to do anything with them, they're doing very well to me," Erchirion said.

"It's _because_ you think they're doing very well that makes us even more worried, Erchirion," Lothíriel replied. "We already have enough trouble with you and Amrothos, we don't need contributions from Elfwine and Elboron as well!"

Imrahil laughed. "You don't need to worry, my daughter. After the wedding, Elfwine will be in Edoras, and Elboron in Emyn Arnen. If Erchirion and Amrothos together are unable to destroy the city, I don't suppose your son would be able to do very much mischief alone in Edoras!"

"I think the two children are absolutely delightful," Maura said. "I've only just met them, and I think that they are extremely bright boys."

Éomer grinned. "I have to say, Maura, you definitely know how to get into people's good graces!"

Maura laughed. "Children are always the keys to the hearts of the parents. It does not take a genius to discover that. But I was not trying to get into anyone's good graces, I was simply stating my observations!"

"Then you are very observant indeed," Faramir spoke up. "Unfortunately, our two well-loved little mischief-makers apply their admirable intelligence to the wrong sort of activities."

"I hardly think stealing cakes can be called the 'wrong sort of activities'," Amrothos protested. "It's just innocent mischief; I've done so quite a few times myself. Of course, I was never caught, which simply means that the boys have a lot more to learn…"

"No!" Éowyn exclaimed. "You are _not_ going to teach Elboron and Elfwine how to steal cakes."

"Actually," Imrahil mused, "I rather remember doing that myself, a very, very long time ago."

Everyone laughed, trying to imagine the responsible, wise and brave Prince of Dol Amroth as a child, trying to steal a cake from the kitchen. The image was highly amusing, and not one that could be gotten rid of quickly.

* * *

Lothíriel slipped into her old room, closing the door gently behind her. Éomer looked up at her from the bed where he was reading a book by the candlelight.

She smiled at her husband. "They're both asleep," she said, taking off her shoes and beginning to change into her nightdress. "They look like little angels when they sleep!"

Éomer laughed. "Just an illusion, Lothíriel, it's just an illusion."

Lothíriel smiled, and went over to sit next to her husband. Resting her head on Éomer's shoulder, she said wistfully, "It seems just like yesterday that I was here in this room alone, just a girl."

Éomer closed the book and made as if to leave. "Would you like to relive the memory? I can always go…"

Laughing, Lothíriel held on to his arm. "There isn't anywhere in Middle-earth that I would rather be alone instead of with you."

Blushing as their lips met, they seemed more like newlyweds than husband and wife of seven years.

* * *

_Just a short little fluffy chapter while I dream up more mischief!_


	34. Elfwine's First Wedding

_To Sabrina Boreanz: Yup, Faramir and Lothíriel _are_ cousins, but Elfwine's still Faramir's nephew because Éomer and Éowyn are siblings. Therefore, Éowyn is really Elfwine's aunt, which also makes Faramir Elfwine's uncle. Thus, Elfwine = Faramir's nephew? Hehehe… complicated, but we Chinese have even weirder relations so I guess I'm getting rather experienced at thinking this through!_

* * *

**Chapter 34 : Elfwine's First Wedding**

* * *

"Stop tugging your veil!" Éowyn chided. "There's nothing wrong with it, Maura."

Lothíriel smiled. She could still remember so vividly her own wedding day. It was hard to believe that seven years had passed so quickly. "Don't worry, Maura. Trust us, everything is fine. You'll only drive yourself crazy adjusting everything, and looking for something wrong," she said gently. "It's the same for every woman's wedding. I've been through it too."

Maura smiled nervously. "Really?"

"Of course. We've both been through it," Éowyn said with a smile. "I don't know where Arwen is right now, but if she's here, she would tell you the same."

"I saw her talking with Legolas just now," Lothíriel said. "She said that she would be coming as soon as possible."

"The Queen!" Maura started. "The Queen is coming _here_?"

Lothíriel laughed. "Yes, Arwen is coming here," she said. "She helped me get ready for my wedding, and I don't see why yours would be any different. She enjoys it."

"Yes, I do." The door closed behind Arwen gently, and she came forward to hug Lothíriel, then Éowyn. "It's so good to see the both of you again! Especially at such a familiar occasion."

"Queen Arwen," Maura stood up awkwardly, trying not to step on her dress.

"There's no need to be so formal, Maura," Arwen said warmly. "It's _your_ wedding day. You are the most important woman present today. Besides, you'll be a princess of Dol Amroth soon. Call me Arwen, please."

Maura nodded dumbly. This was her very first time actually meeting her Queen, and to be greeted with so much familiarity was a little stunning. Lothíriel grinned. "Come, sit down, Maura, or are you going to be standing that way with your knees half-bent the whole time?"

* * *

Elfwine and Elboron sat on the bed in Elphir's room, watching as their fathers tried to calm him down.

"Now, nothing is going to go wrong," Faramir was saying.

"You know your vows, and you've had your speech to the people planned. Nothing _can_ go wrong," Éomer added reassuringly. This reminded him very much of his own wedding day.

"But… but…"

"We'll have none of that," Faramir said firmly. "Don't you drive yourself crazy worrying."

"But…"

"Father, if Uncle Elphir gets frightened, Elfwine and I could always do something to distract everyone," Elboron volunteered.

Faramir smiled fondly at his little son. "That won't be necessary, Elboron," he said. "Elphir will be _just fine_."

Éomer nodded. "This, boys, is the most nerve-wracking moment of a man's life," he said, coming to sit on the bed next to Elfwine.

"Even more frightening than facing a thousand Orcs?" Elboron asked, wide-eyed.

Elphir swallowed. "I'm not sure about that, but it definitely seems more difficult."

"I suppose it must be," Elfwine said wisely. "Girls are very frightening. They cry a lot."

Knowing that his son was being very serious, Éomer tried to keep himself from doubling over with laughter. See the redness that came over Faramir's face, he suspected that Faramir was having the same trouble. Elphir was too busy trying to adjust his tunic to have noticed. Finally, when he had gained more control over himself, Éomer ruffled Elfwine's hair and said to the boys, "Have you ever seen your mothers crying?"

Elfwine shook his head. "I've never seen Mother cry, but Mother is different!"

"Oh? How so?" Faramir asked, amused.

"Our mothers are different from other girls," Elboron said with pride. "They're better!"

"They certainly are special," Éomer agreed. "Wouldn't you say so, Faramir?"

"Of course."

* * *

Imrahil sat in his study, alone. His head was buried in his hands as he thought of what was to come. Elphir would be married today. His eldest son and heir. Just like at Lothíriel's wedding, Imrahil was having some semblance of the jitters, and mixed feelings. There was first and foremost happiness for his son at having been able to find love. Then there was worry that there would be unthinkable problems during the wedding. Then there was a strange sort of sadness, thinking on how his children had all grown up so quickly he had barely noticed.

Once more, his thoughts drifted to memories of his late wife. _If only she could see her children now, she would be so proud of them. _A nostalgic smile came over his face as he thought of his precious children, on the days they were born. They had been so small, so fragile, cradled in his arms. And now they were all grown, and strong, and Lothíriel even had her own five-year-old son.

It was true what people said; time _was_ the most mysterious illusion. It crept up behind you, and all in an instant made you realise the changes that seemed so sudden.

He stood up, adjusting his belt. It was time for him to gain a daughter-in-law.

* * *

Elfwine stood in the front between his parents. On his best behaviour, he watched quietly as his uncle said his vows, followed by Maura saying hers. He didn't understand what the vows really meant; he would have to ask his parents later. He made a little face as Elphir and Maura shared their first kiss as husband and wife, but applauded along with the rest of the people present. After all, everyone seemed happy, and there was to be a celebration.


	35. The Surprise

_I have just realised that I have no idea when the story is going to end! It seems as if it has a life of its own now, and I'm just the person who types out the happenings. I have no idea where things are going to go. It's risky business, but fun too. =0)_

* * *

**Chapter 35 : The Surprise**

* * *

"But we're not tired!" Elboron protested. Elfwine nodded eagerly in agreement, though he was trying hard to stifle a yawn.

Éowyn smiled and shook her head. "The answer is still no," she said, bending down to look her son in the eyes. "You two have already stayed up an hour past your usual bedtime. It's time to go to bed now."

"But… but…" Elfwine began, but before he could continue, strong arms swept him up.

"Come, Elfwine, you don't have to go to sleep," his father whispered into his ear. "Just lie in bed and be quiet, all right? You could stay up all night that way if you wanted to."

"Really?" Elfwine's eyes were wide. This was the first time his father had said that he could stay up all night. Just lying in bed and staying up all night? That sounded easy.

Éomer nodded, smiling. He patted his nephew on the head. "The same goes for you too, Elboron. You could stay up all night, as long as you keep quiet and lie in bed. It could be something special."

The two boys were enthralled by the idea. Éowyn grinned at her brother. "Come, Elboron, I'll tuck you in."

Faramir came over and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "I'll do it, Éowyn," he said gently. "You should just have fun tonight. Besides, I haven't tucked my little boy in bed for such a long time." He picked Elboron up and tickled the little boy. "Have I, Elboron?"

Elboron just giggled, trying to push away Faramir's fingers. Éowyn smiled and gave her husband a kiss before saying good night to the two boys, and going over to speak with Arwen and Lothíriel. The two fathers smiled at each other before leaving the hall, carrying their sleepy sons (who were both currently in denial about being tired) to their room.

* * *

Elfwine held on tightly to his blankets, trying hard to keep his eyes open. His father had said that he could stay up all night, and that was what he intended to do. Elboron had failed miserably, and was sleeping fitfully in his half of the bed, curled up in a ball. But Elfwine had no intention of failing.

He started as the door creaked open a little. Two tall men came creeping into the room. At first he thought that they were Faramir and Éomer, but then he realised that they were his uncles Erchirion and Amrothos. "Uncle Erchirion? Uncle Amrothos?" he whispered.

"Ah, you're awake," Amrothos replied, coming to kneel next to the bed.

"Elboron's sleeping."

"Yes, that's why we're being very quiet," Erchirion said.

"We just wanted to tell the both of you to get your sleep and rest properly, because tomorrow we have a surprise to show you. But you must wake up very early. So it's important that you sleep now."

"But Father said I could stay up all night!"

"If you do, you won't be able to see the surprise tomorrow morning," Amrothos said, patting Elfwine's hand. "Then we'd have to take only Elboron."

"Sleep tight, Elfwine."

The two brothers stood up and left the room, as quietly as they had come. Elfwine turned in bed, a new goal in mind. He would go to sleep right away. He wanted to see the surprise too.

* * *

Erchirion and Amrothos crept into the room again just before dawn. The two boys were fast asleep. Erchirion went to wake Elboron, while Amrothos woke Elfwine. "Come on Elboron, we have to go now," Erchirion said softly, shaking the child awake.

Elboron stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What's happening?" he asked blearily. "It's dark still."

Erchirion got up and went to get Elboron's clothes. "Come, dress yourself, we have a surprise for you and Elfwine. It's going to be really fun."

Elfwine was already out of bed, having known of the surprise earlier, and was already fumbling with his shirt. "It's going to be fantastic, Elboron!" he said enthusiastically, finally giving up and letting Amrothos help him dress. Erchirion laughed and nodded, helping Elboron with his clothes.

A moment later, the four notorious mischief-makers were leaving from a side door, and the two brothers were leading the little ones towards their surprise. They passed the shack where Elfwine's father had been most unceremoniously locked in so many years ago, and down a flight of hidden stone steps.

"Here we are!" Erchirion smiled as the boys looked around, awed. They were standing on at the edge of a lagoon, behind a sand bar. The boys had never seen anything like it before, and simply stood there for the longest time, completely stunned.

"Are you two just going to stand there the whole time?" Amrothos was already pulling off his boots, and dipping his feet into the water. "The water isn't very cold." Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled off his shirt and got into the water. "It's lovely!" he called out.

Erchirion laughed and looked towards Elfwine. The child was openly gaping. Obviously it had never occurred to him that you could completely submerge yourself in something more than a bathtub. "You've been looking at grass plains for too much of your life, Elfwine," he said good-naturedly. "In Dol Amroth, the grass plains of your homeland have been substituted with water."

"My father showed me a pool in Emyn Arnen," Elboron said distantly. "But it isn't as big as this one."

"And my guess is that the water is better here too," Erchirion said, with a grin. Tugging off his boots, he joined his brother in the lagoon. Five minutes later, each brother was carrying a little boy, eagerly trying to get each other as wet as possible.

* * *

Lothíriel opened her eyes, and glanced over at her husband, still sleeping soundly. Slowly, she got out of bed, and dressed. The sun was just beginning to rise. She slipped out of the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

Leaving the building through a side door, she made her way to the cliffs, and found that someone had already beaten her to it. He turned as she approached, and smiled, making a small bow in acknowledgement. "Good morning, my lady."

Lothíriel smiled, coming to stand next to him. "Come, Legolas, you know that there's no need to address me so formally."

Legolas nodded agreeably. "There certainly isn't. I didn't get a chance to speak with you last night. But I saw your son, running about with Faramir's son. They're fine boys."

"Yes, they are," Lothíriel agreed. "A little _too_ fine, I sometimes think. They can't seem to stay put, unless they're asleep!"

Legolas laughed. "Children will be children." He looked out to the sea and sighed. "In all my years in Gondor, I've never come to Dol Amroth. But now I'm here, and I see this…" He gave Lothíriel a smile. "You were right, what you said all those years ago. The Sea _does_ calm you. But for Elves, it awakens something, something that Men cannot feel."

"Does it hurt you, the longing? Knowing what is in store, but yet unable to go towards it?"

A wistful look came over Legolas' face. "One day, I _will_ go towards it. I'm sure of it. The time has not come yet. But it will come. For now, I'm content just admiring this view." He turned, and something caught his eye. "Say… I think I see your brothers! And… your son. _And_ his little friend."

* * *

The sun rose as the boys enjoyed themselves. Amrothos was trying to teach Elfwine how to swim, and the child was learning fast.

Finally Erchirion announced that it was enough. "We have to get back and get changed before breakfast," he said.

"Five more minutes!" Elboron begged.

Erchirion shook his head. "No, there's no time, Elboron. If you're good, we'll bring you here again tomorrow, all right?"

They clambered out of the lagoon and pulled on their shirts and boots, and then raced each other up the steps.

"And just where do you think you are going?"

They froze, and turned to see Lothíriel standing a little distance away, her arms crossed. Legolas was standing behind her, looking much amused.

"Ah… we… surprise… boys… happy…" Amrothos was trying most inarticulately to explain.

"We were swimming!" Elfwine announced happily. "Uncle Amrothos taught me how to swim!"

"He did, did he?" A small smile crossed Lothíriel's face. "At the crack of dawn?"

"We thought it would be a good surprise for the boys, and they really loved it," Erchirion spoke up defensively. "Nothing bad happened, it was safe, and the water wasn't too cold."

"Come, _you_ used to come here too, when you were their age. We brought you here, remember?" Amrothos added.

"I had almost forgotten," Lothíriel said softly. Her childhood now seemed so far away. For over ten years, her thoughts had never turned to this secret lagoon. Apparently, her brothers remembered it well. Her smile widened. "Hurry up, or you'd still be dripping at breakfast."

Erchirion gave his sister a mock salute, and they continued their dash to their rooms.


	36. Just Two

_To lady scribe of avandell : You know, I was just thinking about that! A nice little fluffy chapter to reminisce over Chapter 10 (A Silly Girl's Thoughts). I love fluff._

_I've dug up a CD full of love songs that I burned a few years ago and therefore I am feeling extremely full of fluff. I could probably stuff a pillow with all the fluff I'm feeling, but I decided to write it all out here instead._

* * *

**Chapter 36 : Just Two**

* * *

Changing their clothes was a simple matter, but drying their hair wasn't as easy. So it was no surprise that at breakfast that morning, there were four members of looked as if they had stuck their whole head into the basin, instead of just washing their faces. Imrahil wisely chose not to mention his observations, and Legolas and Lothíriel kept silent of what they had witnessed. The rest were just simply resigned to the fact that the four wet ones were always up to something, and decided not to even bother finding out what was this latest escapade.

Thus, the four mischief-makers were able to avoid having to explain themselves.

Elfwine studied the man opposite his mother. He had never seen such a man before, with such peculiar pointed ears. The man noticed him staring, and smiled warmly. "I don't suppose we've been properly introduced," he said in a clear, smooth voice.

Lothíriel nodded, putting an arm around Elfwine's shoulders. "Legolas, this is my son Elfwine. Elfwine, this is Legolas. He's an Elf, dwelling in Ithilien."

Elfwine frowned, not understanding. "Uncle Faramir dwells in Ithilien."

Legolas laughed. "And so do the Elves, Elfwine," he said, a friendly twinkle in his eyes. "Your uncle and his people aren't the only ones who deserve credit for the beauty of Ithilien!"

"That I agree with completely," Faramir said pleasantly, overhearing Legolas' words.

The doors of the hall opened and in came another strange man. In fact, Elfwine greatly doubted that he was a man. He was short and stocky, with a great big beard. Legolas smiled, seeing the boy's surprised in seeing another new person. "Gimli, good morning!" he said with a grin. "I see the ale you had last night had got the better of you!"

Gimli waved away his best friend's comment and took the seat directly opposite Elfwine. Noticing the child, a smile spread across his face, and he stood up again, and made a little bow. "This must be the little prince of Rohan!" he said in a rich, warm voice. "Hello, lad, I'm Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves."

Elfwine recalled his father talking about the Glittering Caves, and how the dwarves living there had done much good to it, and that the dwarves were friends to be treasured. "I know where the Glittering Caves are. You're a dwarf," he said in awe.

Gimli laughed as he helped himself to a piece of bread. "That I am, young sir!" Looking to Éomer, Gimli beamed again. "Looks exactly like you, the boy."

Éomer winked. "Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as such," Gimli said heartily.

Breakfast passed pleasantly, and Elfwine was enthralled by the tales Legolas and Gimli told, such that he begged to go off walking in the gardens with them, so that he could hear more.

"Please?" he asked beseechingly.

"It would be no trouble," Legolas said. "In fact, it would be a joy."

"Of course it would be a joy!" Gimli contributed. "Come, we could even take young Elboron with us as well."

Elboron immediately turned to his parents with great, big, innocent-looking eyes. "Please, can I go too?"

Maura smiled. "If Legolas and Gimli don't mind having the company of two children, I don't see anything wrong with such an arrangement. You two couples could have some time for yourselves."

Faramir looked at Éowyn with a smile. "Well… that's true."

Elboron cheered.

Éomer nodded. "We haven't had any time together, just the two of us, for…"

"…Five years," Lothíriel finished.

"So one day will do no harm," Elphir said, taking Maura's hand.

So it was settled. Legolas and Gimli would be in charge of the children for the day, and the two couples would finally have some "alone" time.

* * *

Éomer and Lothíriel spent the day wandering around Dol Amroth, visiting the marketplace, reading in the library, doing all the little common things that had become so rare in Edoras, where there was always some issue to take care of, and Elfwine to watch. The day passed faster than any other, dark thoughts kept away from every mind.

Finally, as the sun began to set, Lothíriel took her husband's hand. "There's one final place I want to show you," she said with a mysterious smile. "I had nearly forgotten about it, but I was reminded of it this morning."

Éomer followed her through the city, and laughed when he saw the all-too-familiar shack. "I remember that," he said. "That was my 'test', from Erchirion and Amrothos. They used that to measure if I was good enough to marry you."

Lothíriel laughed. "Come, just a little more."

They went down the stone steps and stopped at the edge of the lagoon. The setting sun had just touched the sea, and was slowly sinking into the red and orange waters. The very image brought warmth seeping through a person's heart. "Erchirion and Amrothos used to bring me here as a child," Lothíriel said softly, looking upon the scene with shining eyes. "I haven't been here in so long I just stopped thinking about it. But today I found my brothers here with Elfwine and Elboron, and everything came back."

Éomer eyed the water and grinned at Lothíriel. "You're not going to push me in like in Emyn Arnen, are you?"

Laughing, Lothíriel sat down and pulled off her shoes, then sliding into the water gracefully, heedless of her lovely dark blue dress. "No," she said seriously. "But if you don't get in, I'll pull you in."

Éomer had no need of any more threats. The water was cool and refreshing. Pulling Lothíriel over to him, he kissed her forehead and said, "All right, I'm in. Are you happy now?"

A smile lingered on Lothíriel's lips as she kissed her husband. "Yes, I am."

* * *

They made their way back when the sun had completely set, dripping and shivering but not caring. They slipped in through the side door again, and only stopped to look into the children's room. The two boys were fast asleep, tired out after a day of excitement and adventure with an Elf and a Dwarf. Smiling, they eased the door shut and continued on their way to their room.

They met Legolas on the way, walking down the corridor, making not a sound. He stopped before them, and Lothíriel could see the laughter dancing behind his eyes. "I presume you two had a very enjoyable day?" Legolas asked with a smile. He knew where they had been.

"Yes, we most certainly did," Éomer said. "Thank you for giving us such a day. I hope the children were not too much trouble."

"They haven't been trouble at all," Legolas replied. "In fact, they're very good company." He made a little bow, a twinkle in his eyes. "The two of you should get to your room before you freeze to death. Good night." With a smile, he strode past them, to wherever he was planning to go.

Éomer and Lothíriel hurried to carry out his suggestion.


	37. A New Friend

_Sorry I haven't written for such a long time, there's been writer's block and school. And I won't really be able to write much for quite awhile 'cos I have major exams after this week, and MAJOR major exams in November.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 37 : A New Friend**

* * *

Elfwine frowned at the horsemen before him. It was time to leave Dol Amroth, after spending two weeks there. He didn't want to go. If he went home, he wouldn't be able to play with Elboron anymore, and it would be a _very_ long time before they would get to meet again.

"Mother, can't we stay in Dol Amroth a little longer?" he asked, tugging on his mother's skirts to get her attention.

Lothíriel bent down and kissed his cheek. "No matter how long we stay, we will still have to leave eventually," she told him gently. "Besides, it's time to get back to Edoras. There'll be much for your father to take care of there."

For the first time in his life Elfwine wished fervently that his father were not the King of Rohan, so they could stay in Dol Amroth longer. Then he wouldn't have to leave his friend so soon.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and Elfwine turned, looking down slightly on his friend. Elboron looked solemn, and stuck out his hand. "Goodbye," he said seriously.

Elfwine shook his hand. "Goodbye," he replied.

Elboron nodded, then looked earnestly at his older friend. "We'll meet again, right? Then we can play together again!"

Elfwine looked up at his mother for confirmation, and when she nodded, he grinned confidently at Elboron. "I'll see you again. We're best friends!"

* * *

_Fourteen years later…_

* * *

"You cheated!" Elboron insisted indignantly.

Elfwine laughed. "My friend, I'm the Prince of the Horse-Lords! I have no need to cheat!" Pulling on the reins of his majestic brown stallion, he began making his way to the stables. "Come, Elboron, just admit that you lost the race again!"

"If we weren't best friends, I'd probably kill you right now," Elboron said sulkily, but they both knew that he didn't mean a word of it.

They attended to their horses personally. Elfwine's father had always said, "When you're away from home, your horse is your best friend. Do you just toss your best friend over to a groom?" After they were certain that the horses had everything that they would possibly need, they left the stables, stopping only to stroke the King's magnificent steed.

In the hall, everything had been laid out for lunch. Lothíriel was already there. As always, seeing his mother always brought about a wave of admiration. She sat at her place quietly, lost in her own thoughts. A small smile played about her lips; as if she had a secret she was keeping from the rest of the world, as if she knew something that everyone else didn't. When the two young men approached the table, she looked up at them, the secret smile replaced by an open, warm one. "Well, I see that you've remembered lunch today," she remarked. "Who won the race?"

Elboron jerked his head in Elfwine's direction as he sat down. "Elfwine can't be beaten, Aunt Lothíriel. I think I'll be giving up soon."

Lothíriel laughed. "I assure you, Elboron, that my son _can_ be beaten. I've done it several times myself."

Elboron laughed along with her, but Elfwine was not in the least embarrassed. It was nothing to be ashamed at, losing to his mother. She had been an excellent rider when she was growing up in Dol Amroth, and all these years in Rohan had only served to improve her skill. "You are a very skilled rider, Mother," he said good-naturedly.

"And I agree."

Everyone turned to see Éomer coming in, a smile on his face. He was now forty-nine, but had lost none of his youthful vigour. His manner simply demanded respect, and his people gave it to him most readily. Elfwine and Elboron instinctively rose, waiting until he was seated before taking their seats again. Éomer hardly took any notice of that; it was expected of the boys to do that, something that Éomer had gone through himself. "Come, the two of you must be hungry after racing again," he said warmly. "Let's not leave the food cold, shall we?" He paused, as if trying to recall something, and then said, "Elfwine, later you must join me for the meeting with the captains."

Elfwine nodded. He was nineteen now, and it was important that he began to take a small part in the ruling of the country. His father was still healthy and strong, but as Elfwine's tutors said, learning how to become a king was not something that could be done in a year or two. Every morning he trained with the other young soldiers, and when Elboron visited, Elboron would also take part in the training. Together they worked hard at their combat skills; it was important that a ruler could be able to fight for his country when it was necessary. And Elfwine had recently been attending meetings with his father. At first he had expected them to be dull, but he found that some were really quite interesting, and that he actually did have views that could be contributed. All in all, Elfwine rather enjoyed his training to be king.

* * *

Elboron sat on the steps leading up to the hall, looking out at the plains that surrounded him. Elfwine was at a meeting with his father, and Lothíriel had wandered off somewhere. Elboron suspected that his aunt had gone riding, and the thought made him smile. In so many ways, his aunt was so similar to his mother that it made Edoras seem like home all the more.

Elboron sighed, thinking of home. He knew that when he got home, he would have to participate in the ruling of Ithilien again. Elfwine's training had started when he was sixteen, and it was now the same with Elboron. But unlike his cousin, Elboron did not have any real interest in political matters. His father was a good ruler, that he knew, and Faramir did try his best to get his son involved, but Elboron never found anything that made him feel needed. He enjoyed his combat training, but the meetings bored him. He didn't understand why he had to attend them all with his father. Politics left him frustrated and irritable.

"Well, whether you like it or not, you've got at least two hours to yourself," he muttered. Standing up, he looked around, wondering what he could possibly be up to for two hours. Perhaps he could go look for Freda? He hadn't seen her much since coming to Edoras. He didn't know where she was. Sometimes she spent time with Lothíriel, Elboron seriously doubted that she would be riding with his aunt. She _could_ be in the kitchens, though. Freda liked the smell of freshly baked bread; that Elboron remembered.

Having made up his mind, Elboron began to make his way to the kitchens.

* * *

The warm, rich smell of cakes filled his senses as he entered, looking around over the heads of the busy women. He didn't see Freda anywhere, and was just about to ask someone when he heard a laugh and was almost bowled over.

Grabbing a corner of the nearest table to keep from falling flat on his face, he staggered and turned round to see who it was who had bumped into him.

The first thing he saw was a pair of dark brown eyes. Then he saw her golden hair, and _then_ he noticed the incredibly embarrassed look she was wearing. It brought a smile to his face.

"I'm sor…" she began to say, but Elboron cut her off with a grin.

"That's all right," he said. "Serves me right for standing in the middle of the kitchen while there are women hard at work all around."

She returned his smile. "I suppose you're right," she said. "You really shouldn't be down here."

"Meren!" Alanna, the head cook, hurried over. "Apologise to Prince Elboron!" She turned to Elboron with a smile, "I'm sorry, my lord, but my niece is new here."

"That's all right," Elboron said for the second time. The girl, Meren, was staring at him now.

"How may I help you, my lord?" Alanna asked.

"Oh, I was just wondering if Freda was here." Elboron took another look around. "I don't see her, so I suppose that answers my question."

"No, Freda hasn't been here to help out today." Alanna laughed. "The Prince of Rohan is in a meeting with his father, I suppose?"

Elboron grinned at the jovial head cook. "You know me well, Alanna," he said.

She nodded. "Well, Freda might come down later," she said. "You could sit down and wait. Here, have some of these." She passed a plate of square biscuits to him.

Elboron pulled a stool over to him and sat down. "I'll be very fat by the time I return to Ithilien," he remarked.

"With all the running about you do with our prince, I doubt it," Alanna replied with a wink as she went off to continue her work.

Elboron looked about the kitchen, breathing in the lovely smells, and noticed that Meren was still standing there. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She shook herself. "Yes, yes I am," she replied hastily. "I… I just…" She shook her head, and then started again. "You're from Gondor?"

"Yes, I am. I live in Ithilien," Elboron said.

A smile spread across Meren's face. "What's it like?" she asked eagerly. "I've never been out of Rohan in my life. The greatest journey of my life was to come here from the Westfold."

Elboron gestured to another stool. "Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you?"

Meren looked around. "I don't know… my aunt might…"

Elboron waved to Alanna. "Alanna, do you mind if I kept your niece from her work? She could keep me company while I wait for Freda."

Alanna couldn't find any way to say no, and so Meren sat down in front of Elboron. He gave her a friendly smile, and began to tell her as much as he could about his home. He told her of the flowers and the trees, the birds and little animals, the weather… it had not struck him until then that he missed Emyn Arnen, and he told her so.

Meren smiled and nodded. "I understand just how you feel. I never thought that I loved my life in the Westfold so much until I came to Edoras. Now I keep thinking about home."

"Why did you leave?"

Meren shrugged. "I wanted to see Edoras. I wanted to find work and stand on my own two feet. I didn't want to be like my sisters, just growing up to become someone's wife. Every single day of their lives will the same. I didn't want that."

"How about now?"

"I still want adventure," Meren admitted. "And I _am_ enjoying myself, but this is rather different from what I expected."

"How so?" Elboron had to admit that he was enjoying speaking to Meren, and was finding her rather interesting.

"Well, I never expected myself to be chatting to the son of the Prince of Ithilien like he was an old friend, for one!" she replied with a smile. "But this _is_ fun."

"Yes, it is." Elboron noticed Freda entering the kitchens. "Oh, Freda is here now. I have to go. I think I'll try to persuade her to go out walking around with me." He stood up. "I suppose I'll talk to you later? After dinner, perhaps?"

"Yes, why not?"

* * *

Elfwine hurried after Elboron after dinner. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To meet a friend," Elboron replied simply.

_A friend?_ Other than himself, Elfwine didn't know that Elboron had other friends in Edoras. "Who?"

"Come along and you'll see!"

Elfwine followed, full of curiosity. "Why are we going towards the kitchens?"

"Come along!" Elboron led the way into the kitchens, waving at Alanna. He didn't stop till he approached a girl Elfwine didn't recognise.

_She must be new_, he thought to himself. He knew everyone working in Methuseld, by sight if not by name. He studied her face. She wasn't beautiful like his mother, but something about her made her seem special. She smiled brightly when she saw Elboron, and Elfwine realised why. She was a girl with confidence, a confidence that radiated from inside her.

"Hello!" she said warmly. "I thought you'd forget!"

"I never forget my friends," Elboron replied with a grin. He jerked his head towards Elfwine. "Elfwine, this is Meren. Meren, this is my best friend Elfwine."

"I know," Meren said, bowing her head politely to Elfwine. "It's an honour to meet you, my prince."

Elfwine shook his head, fidgeting. "There's no need to call me that," he said awkwardly. "Elfwine will do." He didn't understand why, but he suddenly seemed unable to say anything sensible. It was as if his brain had left his head!

Meren nodded with a smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Elfwine." She turned back to Elboron. "Alanna said that if you came, I could stop my work. Where shall we go, then?"

"The gardens? I love it when it's dark there," Elboron said. "Have you been there?"

Meren shook her head. "I'd like to see it. What do you think, Elfwine?"

Elfwine nodded his head dumbly. "The garden are lovely, you should see it."

With that, it was settled, and the three went on their way.


	38. That Strange Feeling

_To Lossenhros : Congrats about your Latin! Hahaha yeah maybe there's some good in Ovid after all. It's strange how we always think that _after_ everything is done with, and never during._

* * *

**Chapter 38 : That Strange Feeling**

* * *

Meren's laughter rang out in the air as she doubled over, her face red from laughing. Elboron was grinning at her, evidently feeling very pleased that his joke had amused her so. Elfwine just smiled awkwardly and helped himself to another piece of bread and cheese.

Elfwine had been excused from his training, and now they were sitting down for lunch after a morning of riding. Meren wasn't a good rider, and so they hadn't been able to race as they usually liked to do, but Elfwine felt that it was still an enjoyable morning. Having someone new in their company was refreshing, and Meren seemed to be brimming over with energy. In some ways Elfwine felt that she was very much like Elboron. For one, they were both seventeen. They were both energetic and bubbly, always out for fun. Suddenly Elfwine was struck with a feeling that he was old. It was a ridiculous thought, of course, since he was only nineteen, and the thought had never occurred to him when he was with Elboron. But with both Meren and Elboron together, he suddenly felt as if he was too serious, too matured… too _old_.

"What do you think, Elfwine?"

Elfwine shook himself, bringing himself out of his own distant thoughts. "What?" he asked. He had not caught the question.

Meren laughed again. "Honestly, Elfwine, were you lost in your own world? Elboron and I were talking about life and adventure. Would you rather have a life filled with adventure, or a steady one with certainty?"

Elfwine pondered over the question for a moment. It was actually one that he often asked himself. At times he had the urge to just take his horse and ride off into nowhere, just to see what would come his way. But he knew that it was not an option for him. He was an only child, and his father looked to him to lead Rohan in the future, distant though it might seem to be._ What _do_ I think?_ "Well… it would be good to have a balance, wouldn't it?" he said.

Elboron laughed. "Don't you know that it's almost impossible to have such a life? I'd rather have new adventures every day, not knowing what's going to come my way. I think one day I might just go off and explore Middle-earth for myself."

Elfwine shook his head. _Another one of Elboron's fantasies._ "You take care that you don't," he warned. "You're an only child too. You're going to be needed in Ithilien."

"Just a mention of the future and Elfwine gets all serious!" Elboron told Meren. "That always happens." He turned back to Elfwine. "Yes, I know I'm an only child. I wish I had a brother, more serious, something like you. Then _he_ could go and become the Prince of Ithilien while I go and do my exploring!" Elboron lay down on the grass, staring up at the sky. "Anyway, Father's in perfect health. It's going to be a long time before I'll really be needed."

"You're always needed, even now," Elfwine said with conviction. "There's always a way for you to help. And you have to be prepared for the day when you'll be needed more than ever."

Elboron said nothing, but closed his eyes, just basking in the sun, a crooked smile on his face. Elfwine shook his head at his carefree, fun-loving best friend. Lifting his eyes briefly, he caught Meren watching him, a strange look on her face. He didn't know what it meant, but he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks. Quickly, trying to find something to do, he held out the picnic basket to her. "Do you want anything?" he asked.

* * *

Meren stood at passageway that opened up into the kitchens, watching Elboron and Elfwine walk away. Elfwine was saying something, and Elboron nodded in agreement.

She turned and entered the kitchens, thinking about her two new friends. They were best friends, but she felt that they could not have been more different. Elboron went about free as a bird, his mind forever dwelling on fun and laughter, while Elfwine was quieter and more focused. Together, it seemed that they were perfectly balanced.

She thought about what Elfwine had said during lunch. He was so aware of his duties, and so determined to carry them out to the best of his ability. He was so certain about his life and his future. Usually Meren would have found such a person dull, but this time she felt a certain… admiration for this young man. It was clear, even now, that Rohan would be in good hands when the he took the throne.

Alanna called to her, waking her from her thoughts, and she went to get her work done. This was no time to be dreaming about princes.

* * *

Elboron brandished his practice sword in front of him playfully. "So, what do you think?"

"About what?" Elfwine frowned, not understanding.

"Meren," Elboron replied easily. "She's a wonderful girl, isn't she? So… warm and happy all the time."

"You've only known her two days," Elfwine said as they began their practice.

"Yes, but I already know that she's a remarkable amount of fun. Anyway, you haven't answered my question."

Elfwine dodged a blow. "I like her," he said. "She's a nice girl." Meren's face popped into his head, and he was a little too late to dodge another blow. Elboron's wooden practice sword smacked into his arm hard.

"Got you!" Elboron exclaimed with satisfaction. "The first time in a week!"

Elfwine tried pulling his attention back to the practice. It was important to concentrate. Éothain had told him that many times. His father had stressed it a few times more. For three years it had been built into his system. Yet why was it that he was so distracted now? He jumped aside as Elboron went on the offensive, ducking blows left, right and centre, and making a few feeble attacks himself.

Finally Elboron stopped, putting his hands on his hips. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Elfwine said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Absolutely nothing."

"Elfwine, I've known you fourteen years," Elboron said matter-of-factly. "I can _tell_ you when there's something, and I'm telling you now, there's something."

Elfwine sighed. Elboron was right; they had been best friends for so long that they knew each other inside out. But he didn't know whether he wanted to tell Elboron about it. For one thing, he didn't even know what 'it' was. How could he possibly confide in his friend if he didn't understand it himself? "I don't know what it is," he said as truthfully as he could. "I guess I'm not feeling very well today. Maybe we shouldn't practice today."

Elboron gave him a strange look, but didn't press the matter. "All right," he said. "You just go to your room and get some rest, then, all right? I think I'll stay here, do a little practicing by myself."

Elfwine nodded. Keeping his practice sword, he turned and walked slowly towards his room.


	39. Always Knock Loudly

_To Sandy of Ruatha : Nope, I've never read any of Tamora Pierce's books. I plucked the name of Alanna either out of my own imagination or from Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time series. 0)_

_To Lossenhros : Yeah, it's not fun being the "mature" one sometimes._

_Eep! Exams start on Monday!_

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**Chapter 39 : Always Knock Loudly**

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Elboron watched Elfwine carefully over Meren's head. He sat staring off into space, brooding over something he did not care to speak to Elboron of. He smiled as Meren laughed, but Elboron could tell that his best friend's mind was barely on what was currently happening. It was as if Elfwine was off somewhere in some distant land, and everyone else was cut off from it. Elboron frowned; this had never happened before. They had known each other for so long, and had shared so many troubles and worries together. This was the first time Elfwine did not want to talk about whatever was troubling him, and Elboron just could not understand. Even the look in his eyes was foreign, and Elboron just did not know what to make of it.

The sun was almost gone. Meren shivered a little and said, "It's getting really dark and cold now. We should get going."

Elfwine stirred. He unhooked his cloak and put it over Meren's shoulders. "Here, this should keep the cold out," he said rather absently. He got up and began walking back towards the gates of Edoras.

Elboron and Meren exchanged looks, and Elboron shrugged. Quietly, they got up and followed him.

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Elfwine walked in front of the others. He wondered if Meren was still feeling the cold. He thought it unlikely; his mother had insisted that he had the best of materials for his cloaks.

_What's wrong with me? Why can't I seem to be what I used to be? Why is it that every time I see Elboron laughing with Meren I have the urge to knock his teeth out? Why can't I just have fun with them, instead of feeling so strange, so awkward?_

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"There's something wrong with Elfwine," Elboron remarked, watching his friend disappear into the hall after saying a quick good night.

Meren thought that there was something wrong too, but she had never known him as anything else. "How so?"

Elboron shook his head. "I can't understand it either. Suddenly he's so quiet, so serious. Something's troubling him, I know that, but he won't speak with me about it. I don't understand; we always confided in each other."

"Maybe it's something to do with Rohan, and he can't tell anyone?" Meren suggested.

"Rohan's issues are the problems of the King," Elboron argued. "And Elfwine's been involved in Rohan's affairs for three years now; and this has _never_ happened before."

Meren considered the issue again as they walked along towards her room. He had always been quiet since she had known him, but Elboron had suggested that he was really a much livelier person. _Maybe…_ "Maybe he doesn't like to have me around? Maybe that's why he hardly ever talks to me…" The idea made her sad, because she thought that Elfwine was a really lovely person.

Elboron shook his head once again. "That can't be the problem," he said confidently. "Elfwine told me himself that he thinks you're a nice girl, and he wouldn't lie to me, even if he thought I'd be hurt or angry. We made that agreement when I was nine, that we would always tell each other the truth."

Meren nodded. "Well, maybe it's something he has to work out for himself," she said gently. "It doesn't mean you're any less his friend if you can't help him. I'm sure one day, when he has everything sorted out, everything will be all right again."

"I hope it'll be soon," Elboron muttered. "It's been two weeks already, and I'm going back to Emyn Arnen next week."

"Don't worry," Meren said gently. They reached her little room, and she bid him good night. Then she opened the door and stepped in.

She sat down on her bed, and pulled off the cloak. She held it in her hands, staring at it. _I don't have such a fine cloak…_ Then she realised that it was Elfwine's and she had forgotten to return it to him. As she continued her staring, an odd feeling crawled into her heart, something she didn't understand. Shaking her head and pushing it away, she told herself to remember to return the cloak to him in the morning, then prepared to go to bed.

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The next morning, Meren stood outside what she was told by another servant girl to be Elfwine's room, clutching his cloak. She had woken up especially early to press it, agonising over every little crinkle or wrinkle. She stared at the door, wondering if this was a good idea. _It's no use standing out here forever, you know_, she told herself sternly. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked lightly on the door, and waited. A moment passed, then two. There was no answer.

_That's early for him to be out of his room_, she thought, surprised. _Should I come back later? Or leave it in his room? Is a servant allowed to enter the prince's room without permission?_ The debate raged inside her as she stood there. Finally, she made up her mind. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the knob and opened the door…

…And stepped out of the room again, slamming the door shut. Elfwine had been in his room after all, and he had been gaping at her as she entered. Without his shirt, no less! Leaning against his door, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks at the thought.

The door was wrenched open, and she almost fell if Elfwine had not grabbed her, his shirt half on. He pulled her in and closed the door.

"I'm… I'm so sorry," she gasped. "I knocked, but there was no answer, and I thought… I thought…" She thrust the cloak at him. "I thought I'd just leave this on your bed."

Pulling his shirt all the way down, he took the cloak, his cheeks as red as hers. "Oh… ah… thank you," he said awkwardly. "That was very nice of you."

Meren nodded, and then stood there silently, looking around, wondering what she was supposed to do now. Not only was he standing between her and the door, and not making any sign of moving aside, she had the strange feeling that she did not want to leave just yet, embarrassed though she was. "I'm really sorry," she said again.

"That's all right," Elfwine said. "Thanks for bringing me my cloak."

Meren stared at him, standing there looking as if he wanted to dig a hole and hide in it, and suddenly burst out laughing. "You said that already," she told him.

A smile spread across his face, a genuine smile, unlike the distant one she had grown used to. "Well, you apologised twice," he pointed out.

"I know. I didn't know what to say."

"Neither did I. But the gratitude's sincere."

"So is the apology."

Elfwine smiled again, a smile that made Meren's knees a little wobbly. _Why doesn't he smile like that more?_ She gave him a weak smile, then cleared her throat and said, "I think I should be getting to the kitchens now. Alanna will be wondering where I am."

His smile faded a little, and he nodded. "All right." However, he made no move.

Meren motioned to the door. "Ah… excuse me?"

Elfwine turned and seemed surprised to see that he was standing right in front of the door. He jumped aside and opened the door. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, flustered. "Thanks again for the cloak. I suppose I'll see you later."

"Yes, I suppose you will," she agreed. Then she left the room, and hurried on her way. As she turned the corner, she looked back and saw Elfwine still at his door, looking at her. When he saw her look at him, he started and went into his room, shutting the door.


	40. A Mother's Knowledge

_AHHHHH!!! MY EXAMS START TOMORROW!!!  
Therefore, will not be online till Saturday, and I don't know when I will be able to write again._

* * *

**Chapter 40 : A Mother's Knowledge**

* * *

"Finally, I'll be rid of you at last," Elfwine said with a grin.

"When I'm gone, you'll _have_ to admit that you miss me and desperately want me back to keep you company," Elboron replied. "I'm indispensable."

Elfwine chose to carry on with the joke. "Whatever you say, Elboron, as long as you go away."

Elboron laughed and turned to embrace his aunt. "Goodbye, Aunt Lothíriel," he said. "Till we meet again."

"You'll be missed in Edoras," Lothíriel replied, smiling. "You and your tricks. Say hello to your parents for me."

Elboron nodded, and moved on to say goodbye to Éomer. Lothíriel watched the two of them exchange words with laughter and smiles. In Edoras, Éomer took over the role of Elboron's father, just like Faramir would whenever Elfwine went to Emyn Arnen.

Lothíriel then noticed a girl standing at the bottom of the steps as if waiting for someone. Moving towards her son, she whispered, "Do you know what that is, Elfwine?"

He followed her gaze, and nodded. "That's Meren."

_Meren._ Lothíriel had heard of her, the new girl who had come to work in Methuseld, and had gained the friendship of both princes, but had never had the chance to meet her. "Why is she standing there by herself? Why don't you go down and ask her to come and join us, Elfwine? She is most welcome."

To Lothíriel's surprise, Elfwine hesitated and took a deep breath (as if he needed all his courage) before walking down the steps towards Meren. She watched her son speak to the girl, and found something very different in him. She could not hear what they were saying, but from his manner, it was as if he had no idea what to do around her. A smile spread across her face as she watched. Had Elfwine stumbled into the unknown?

He was now coming up the stairs with Meren walking beside him. Elboron turned to see her, a wide grin on his face, and they began talking together almost immediately. Elfwine came back to stand next to Lothíriel, seeming to have no desire to join in.

Finally it was time for Elboron to go. He walked down the steps towards the one guard that had been sent with him, and mounted his horse. He did not look back until he reached the gates, where he turned and waved.

"Well, we won't be seeing that rascal for a while," Éomer remarked with a smile. "I suppose Faramir will want him to pay more attention to his duties in Ithilien. That boy is just the same mischief-maker as the time in Dol Amroth, don't you think?"

"Yes, he is," Lothíriel agreed. "And we all love him for it." She approached Meren, smiling warmly. "So you are Meren. I've heard much about you, from Elboron. And a little from Elfwine as well." It had struck her as a little odd how little Elfwine spoke of Meren when he spent so much time with her, but now she felt as if she was beginning to understand what was going on.

Meren bowed her head. "It is an honour to meet you at last, my Queen."

Lothíriel turned to her husband. "Here is the girl we've been hearing of from our boys, Éomer. This is Meren."

"It's good to finally have a face to put to the name," Éomer said good-naturedly. "I was getting tired of thinking of just a silhouette every time."

Lothíriel laughed. "Well, someday you must take a break from your work and join us at dinner," she said kindly. "We'd be most glad to have you, seeing you're such good friends with Elfwine."

Meren blushed and nodded, and Elfwine just continued looking awkward. Lothíriel almost wanted to laugh again, but just managed to keep herself from doing so. If all was as she suspected, there wasn't much she could do for her son, but it would be most interesting to see how he figured things out for himself.

* * *

Meren sat on the ground, watching Elfwine train with the other boys. There was nothing much to take care of in the kitchens now, and no other work for her to attend to, so she had slipped out to watch. He did not expect her to be there, and had not noticed her yet, so she just sat quietly, watching him. He fought well, putting everything he had into his efforts. When he fought, it was as if he saw nothing else. Meren's gaze switched over to Éothain for a moment. She knew him because of Freda, and knew that he, together with the king himself, was responsible for Elfwine's great skill. Éothain was watching with a look that greatly resembled pride on his face, nodding in satisfaction. Meren smiled and turned her attention back to Elfwine.

He finished off the fight, grinning at his partner. The other boy said something, and he laughed. Meren was surprised. She had never seen Elfwine laugh like that before, and had assumed that it was because he was too serious. She had never seen him so relaxed, so uninhibited. She wondered if he behaved this way when he was alone with Elboron. If that was the case, why wasn't he so with her?

Elfwine began to keep his practice equipment. When he looked up, his eyes rested on her, and he dropped his things. His bow smacked onto his toes, and he winced. Meren got up and went to his side to help him pick up his things. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Elfwine said hastily. "Here, let me take those. They're heavy."

Meren let him take the things from her, and they walked towards the armoury so Elfwine could put them away. He glanced at her and cleared his throat. "How long were you sitting there?"

"Since you started; you didn't notice," Meren replied. "I think you were very good."

Elfwine's cheeks seemed to redden a little. "I'm not that good."

"Yes you are!" Meren insisted. "Anyone would say so."

"Have you ever seen Elboron practice?" Elfwine suddenly asked.

"Why? Is he better?" Meren asked. It was difficult to imagine a playful boy like Elboron being better than Elfwine.

"You might think so," Elfwine muttered.

Something in his tone made Meren pay attention. It was as if Elfwine was hinting at something else, but she couldn't think of what it could be. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Elfwine shook his head. "Nothing."

They reached the armoury, and Elfwine packed his things into the shelves as best as he could. When he was done, he gave Meren a little smile. "Now, what do you want to do?"

* * *

Éomer leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He had just spent hours reading through reports sent from the Westfold. On the whole, things were going rather well, but there was some worry of a strange illness passing through the horses in a few of the villages. Éomer had thus decided to travel to those villages with some of his best men, to see how they could help. But for now… he just wanted to have a little rest.

The door opened, and Éomer just stopped himself from groaning, thinking it was someone bringing more reports. But, opening his eyes, he saw Lothíriel smiling down at him, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Working hard?" Lothíriel asked, giving him a quick kiss.

Éomer gestured at the reports. "I think I'll have to go to the Westfold as soon as possible," he said. "Just to see what I can do."

Lothíriel picked up two of the reports and read through them quickly, a frown forming on her face. She put them down on the table again when she was done. "Of course," she said. "The people would be glad to see their king helping them face their troubles. Don't you worry; I'll take care of things here while you're gone."

"Actually, I thought you could come with me, and we would let Elfwine try his hand of managing things. Éothain could stay here to help him, of course. Elfwine shows a lot of interest in the matters of the country, perhaps letting him take care of things for awhile would further help him."

Lothíriel smiled, taking a seat across the desk from him. "I've no doubt Elfwine could manage that." She paused. "But… perhaps he should not be made to take charge of things now."

"Why not?" Éomer asked. "He's only nineteen, I know, but he has great promise."

"He _does_ have great promise," Lothíriel agreed. "But, as you said, he's only nineteen." A secretive smile came over her face. "And I think he has more than enough to handle now without you trying to pile more on him."

"What does that mean?"

Another secretive smile. "Just be patient, wait and see. This will be a great test for our boy."


	41. Dinner

_Only 2 exam papers left, whew! Totally blew my Physics. Ugh. Never mind, shall try to forget about it by writing fanfiction._

* * *

**Chapter 41 : Dinner**

* * *

"You help your mother, all right? Make sure she doesn't have too much to handle," Éomer instructed his son.

Lothíriel laughed. "You make me sound like an old woman!"

Éomer grinned and kissed his wife's forehead. "You _are_ an old woman."

"You're older than me," Lothíriel said with a smile. "Travel safely."

Éomer nodded, and after giving Elfwine a hug, he was off. Elfwine stood next to his mother, waving when his father turned at the gate. He had volunteered to go with his father, in case he needed help, but for some reason Lothíriel had been rather insistent at Elfwine's staying in Edoras, and Éomer always took his wife's counsel seriously. Elfwine didn't understand why his mother had been so set on his staying home this time, when she had always encouraged him to go with his father, but he told himself that there was some reason that he would see later on, something that his mother had already foreseen.

Éomer and his men were already out of sight, but Lothíriel and Elfwine continued to stand in silence. Finally, Lothíriel broke the silence. "Why don't you invite Meren to dinner tonight? She could join the two of us."

Elfwine cleared his throat. "Oh, all right… but she must be busy now… I could ask Freda to pass her a message…"

"Why a message? Surely you could go to the kitchens and ask her yourself?" Lothíriel glanced at her son. "I'm sure you've gone there and spoken to her before."

"Only when Elboron dragged me down. I didn't want to disturb her while she was working," Elfwine replied awkwardly.

"I'm sure she would be glad for the occasional distraction," Lothíriel said, turning back to the hall, and leaving her son standing outside in the middle of what he felt was a very awkward situation.

* * *

"Meren?"

Meren spun around, hands flying to her hair, completely forgetting that they were full of flour. Therefore, the result was her facing Elfwine with flour in her hair.

Elfwine shifted his feet. "Oh… I'm sorry if I startled you," he said. "Or disturbed your work."

"That's all right," she replied, hurriedly trying to get the flour out of her hair. "I'm glad you came to see me." And she meant it.

"Really?" Elfwine looked pleased. Then a reddish tinge came to his face. "Eh… my mother asked if you would join us for dinner."

Being asked to dinner by the queen was a great honour, but Meren could not help but feel a little disappointed. "Your mother?"

Elfwine turned redder. "I would like it if you joined us."

Meren felt her own cheeks heating up as she smiled. "It would be an honour to join you. I'll speak to Alanna." She gestured to the dough she had been kneading. "Well… I have to get back to work now. I'll see you later." She gave him another smile. "Thank you for the invitation."

"It was nothing," Elfwine said. "It would be nice to have a friend at dinner." He began to back out of the kitchen. "I'll see you later, then."

* * *

"Keep still and let me do your hair for you!"

Meren sighed and stopped fidgeting as her friend Morwen started fussing about with her hair. "I don't see how my hair's going to make much of a difference."

"Well, at least you'll look nice," Morwen replied. "That's very important." Her eyes sparkled. "I can't believe you're having a meal with royalty!"

"Morwen, Elfwine's a friend! I don't at him as royalty anymore," Meren said. "And besides, I've already met the queen before. She seems nice."

"Don't try to act as if this doesn't matter, Meren! It does, and you know it."

Morwen was right; it _did_ matter. The truth was, there were butterflies fluttering about in Meren's stomach, so much so that she was beginning to wonder if she actually _could_ eat. And the most confusing part was that she was not in the least bit worried about how she behaved around the queen, but about how Elfwine would see her. She told herself that it was ridiculous, that they were friends and she could just be herself, but somehow this felt different. It was more formal, and it seemed as if there were things that were expected of her that she did not even know of. And she so badly wanted to be perfect in front of Elfwine.

"There, it's beautiful," Morwen said, satisfied. "Stand up, let me look!"

Meren stood up obediently and turned. She was wearing her best dress, but it was just dark green and plain, and there was nothing special about it at all. Morwen had plaited her hair, fastening it with the only piece of jewellery she had: a silver clasp with an image of a running horse engraved on it. Her mother had given it to her when she left home. Overall, she looked much better than she usually did, but she still didn't feel very beautiful. "I look plain," she said.

Morwen shook her head. "You look lovely. Don't you worry about a thing."

* * *

Elfwine entered the hall, and sat down at the table diagonally below the throne. They only had the table moved to the centre of the hall when there were guests. He looked around him, smiling at the guards by the door. His eyes drifted up to the throne. That he would one day sit there was something he could not yet believe. He could not imagine actually being in charge, making decisions instead of just giving suggestions. The idea scared him, but at the same time, it sent a shiver of anticipation up his spine. _Imagine all the things I could do for my country!_ But, of course, he was glad that it would be a long time yet before he would have to take charge. He could not imagine doing a better job than his father.

"Daydreaming?" The voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see Meren smiling at him, and knew that his face was turning red (again). She looked beautiful, with her hair so neatly pulled back, and that simple green dress which suited her so well.

"No, I was just… thinking," he said, getting up. He gestured to a place opposite him. "Why don't you sit down? My mother will be here soon. She was in my father's study a little while ago."

Meren nodded, taking her seat. "Are you in charge, now that your father isn't in Edoras?"

"Mother is, but I'm supposed to help her as much as I can. One day I'll probably be left completely in charge of things here."

"Isn't that frightening? I would never be able to handle something like that. I would probably make a huge mess out of things."

"Well, I've been brought up for that. I've had tutors since I was seven, and at sixteen my father started to train me to become a king. It can be a little intimidating, but I'm sure I can find a way to manage should the occasion arise."

"I'm glad you're the heir to the throne. You'll do a wonderful job for the country," Meren told him truthfully.

Lothíriel entered the hall as Elfwine tried to hide how immensely pleased he was. He and Meren both stood up to greet her. Lothíriel smiled, gesturing for them to sit. She smiled and nodded to one of the guards, who returned the smile and left to deliver the message to the kitchens that dinner could be served. She took her seat at the head of the table between the two youths. "I'm glad you could join us, Meren," she said warmly.

Meren bowed her head as the food was set on the table. "I'll always have time for you and your son, my lady," she said politely.

"And you'll always be welcome at our table. Come, help yourself."

* * *

Meren could hardly believe what a good time she was having. The queen was both friendly and animated, and it was so easy to converse with her without feeling awkward at all. And, in the presence of his mother, Elfwine also loosened up and spoke more freely.

"Oh, Elfwine, I received a letter from Dol Amroth today," Lothíriel said. "It was from your uncles Erchirion and Amrothos."

"Really?" Elfwine grinned. "What did they say?"

"Apparently young Galador's in trouble again. He sabotaged Amrothos' stew with five spoonfuls of salt."

Mother and son laughed. When they sobered down, Elfwine explained to Meren, "Galador is my cousin, son of my uncle Elphir. He's ten and always in trouble."

"I highly suspect that he's inherited some of that blood that my brothers Erchirion and Amrothos have. They've always been the ones in trouble in Dol Amroth, but they've seemed to quieten down now," Lothíriel added.

"They sound very interesting," Meren said with a smile. "I wish my family was as interesting."

"Every family must have an interesting story or two to tell," Elfwine said. "I can't believe that there's a family in the whole Middle-Earth without something worth speaking of. It's just impossible."

"Tell us about _your_ family, Meren," Lothíriel said. "I don't think it's fair for us to be talking about our family here the whole time while you just listen. You must miss your family."

Meren thought about it, her family back in their little village in the Westfold. "I _do_ miss them," she confessed. "I'm the youngest in the family. I have two sisters and a brother. Our life was simple and routine, nothing much ever happened. We didn't have much, but we were happy anyway."

"Why did you leave?" Elfwine's eyes stared straight into hers, making her shiver slightly.

"My sisters… both of them got married at the age of eighteen and just settled down, spending their days with their husbands the exact same way they spent their days at home with us. I didn't want that. I wanted to see more before I settled down, before I was tied down by anything. So I wrote to my aunt, Alanna, and asked her if she could find work for me in Edoras. She did, and so now I'm here."

"That was brave of you, Meren," Lothíriel said sincerely. "When I was your age, I hated leaving my home. As far as I was concerned, I was perfectly happy staying where I was, spending my days with my brothers right till the end of time."

Meren blushed at the compliment. "Well then, my lady, I must say it's lucky for Rohan that you changed your mind."

Elfwine laughed. "My father changed her mind. Didn't he, Mother?" The look he gave his mother was such a cheeky one that Meren was rather taken aback.

"Oh, Elfwine." Lothíriel's cheeks coloured slightly. Then she recovered and gave her son one of her famous secretive smiles. "Your father did a good job of changing my mind and winning my heart. One day it'll be _your_ turn. And I hope that when that day comes, the girl will be someone as lovely as Meren."

Elfwine's face turned bright red, and Meren was sure that all her blood had rushed up to her face.

* * *

"I had a good time at dinner today," Meren said as they walked under the stars in the gardens. "You must thank your mother for me again."

"I will."

Meren glanced at Elfwine, walking with his hands behind his back, looking down at the ground. "You were different today."

"How so?"

Meren smiled and shrugged. "You seemed… more relaxed. Freer. You didn't seem as distant as you usually do." She grinned. "Your behaviour reminded me a little of Elboron today. So much at ease."

Elfwine shot her a look, and she thought she saw a flash of disappointment. "Elboron?" He said that name as if it sounded strange on his tongue. Then he gave her a smile. "Do you miss him?"

"Yes, I do. We had good times when he was here, didn't we?"

Elfwine looked up at the sky, remaining silent for the longest time before saying, "Yes, yes we did."

* * *

_I've been thinking about my older fanfics… especially my 2 Legomances. I read through them recently and they seem horrible now. I've been considering "revising" them. As in, I'll keep the storylines, re-write them and post them up again. What do you think? Should I do it? Give me your views please! THANKS._


	42. Lothiriel Helps

_To Snufflehelm, the Valiant Bed-wetter of Eastfold : You know, I've never been called a "sporkworthy pencil monster"… but I like the sound of it! Thanks! 0) Hehe actually it's ringing in my head now. Probably will use it everywhere from now on, if you don't mind._

_To Laririen-Shadow : Physics tests are evil! _

_To everyone else : Thanks for your reviews! As for the revising of my old stuff, I think I'll do it after I'm done with this fic and have nothing else to occupy my time with!_

* * *

**Chapter 42 : Lothíriel Helps**

* * *

Lothíriel lay down in bed, pulling the blankets over her. It now felt strange without Éomer by her side, but it was all right. He would be back before she knew it. Instead, she turned her thoughts over to her son. It had been so obvious that Elfwine and Meren had fallen for each other; it was plain in the way they both tried so hard to impress and please each other, even if they did not notice it themselves. But they justcould not recognise the facts themselves!

How about you, Lothíriel? Didn't Isindil have to point out to you that you were in love? 

Well… that was definitely true. One could not blame the two youths for not recognising something they had never felt before. After all, the road to discovery was something everyone had to go through! She would just have to be patient and wait, helping as much as she could along the way.

She grinned into the darkness. _At least I've set things in motion properly_, she thought.

* * *

Elfwine buried his face in his pillow, trying to get some sleep, but the image of Meren's face kept coming back to him. She had looked so beautiful under the moonlight, but perhaps it was because she was talking about Elboron? He sighed. He wished he could stop feeling so awkward around her, and behave as confidently as Elboron. Then perhaps she would find him as interesting. But he couldn't seem to help it. Every time he was around her, he had absolutely no idea what to do, how to behave, what to say. It was as if all his common sense had flown out of his head.

But why was it so only when he was around her? Why not with other people? And if he felt so strange when he was with her, why did he want to be with her so much?

It made no sense whatsoever.

* * *

Meren lay awake in bed, a smile on her face, thinking of dinner. She was glad that the queen had turned out to be so friendly and kind. It was, after all, Lothíriel's continuous conversation that put her completely at ease. But the best part of the meal was how Elfwine had seemed to open up. She wished that he could be that way more often, then perhaps she would not need to worry about how she behaved about him. The thing was, she was caught between wanting to meet his standard of behaviour, and just letting loose and being herself. She was afraid that if she really was herself, she would do something silly that would disgust him, and she would lose his companionship.

Why was it this way? She had never worried about how other people saw her before, so why did she start now? What was so different about her friendship with Elfwine, that she would worry so about herself?

It made no sense whatsoever.

* * *

"Elfwine?"

Elfwine looked up from the book he was reading. "Yes, Mother?"

Lothíriel did not answer for a moment, taking her time to add up the figures in the record book. Then she looked up at her son again and asked nonchalantly, "What do you think of Meren?"

"What do you mean?"

Lothíriel shrugged. "She seems a nice enough girl. Friendly and kind. I like her. I was just wondering what _you_ think about her."

"She's my friend."

"I know that, but it doesn't answer my question, does it?"

Elfwine shifted in his seat. "What do you want to know, then?"

"What you think of Meren." Something that seemed very much like frustration was beginning to appear inside Lothíriel. _Honestly, are _all_ men clueless to what they feel?_ _Or do they have such pride that they just refuse to admit it even to themselves?_

"She's… she's… friendly."

"Only friendly?" Lothíriel frowned. "It would seem to me that after spending time with her, you'd have more of an opinion."

"She's… pretty?"

It took all the self-restraint Lothíriel had to keep herself from throwing her hands in the air in defeat. Men really _were_ hopeless. She would get nowhere with her son.

* * *

"Alanna, may I borrow your niece for a moment?" Lothíriel smiled and took Meren's arm by the elbow, leading her out of the kitchen. "I won't keep her too long."

"What can I do for you, my lady?" Meren asked once they were out of the kitchen.

Lothíriel was now considering where she could take this girl. Éomer's study would be too frightening. "Would you like to accompany me to see Elfwine training, Meren? I could do with some youthful company before I grow too old." She said it with a light laugh, easing the tension Meren was sure to be feeling.

Meren smiled. "You'll never be too old, my lady," she said. "But of course I would love to accompany you."

Lothíriel nodded, and they both went out to the training grounds behind the stables. "Let's not get Elfwine's attention. I think he always fights so much better when he doesn't feel as if he has to put on a show for someone," she said. "Have you seen him train before?"

Meren nodded. "Yes, I have. He's very good."

Lothíriel smiled with pride at that comment. Yes, it was true. Elfwine _was_ very good. Éomer would have never settled for anything less with his son, and whenever he had time he would train his son personally. Otherwise, Éothain did a wonderful job. With Elfwine's own determination to become the best, it was definitely no surprise that he was 'very good'.

Elfwine was already in the field, but his back was turned to them as he got his things ready. Éothain noticed them, though, but said nothing when Lothíriel waved and put a finger to her lips. Meren was looking around as if wondering where they could sit. Lothíriel went straight to the back of the armoury, and sat down on the ground, leaning against the wall. Meren looked surprised to see the queen sitting so on the ground, and Lothíriel almost laughed. Honestly, some people thought that the royalty could not do the same as other people! "Don't just stand there," she said, smiling. "Come and sit down."

Meren sat down next to Lothíriel as Éothain and Elfwine began their practising. "I always marvel at how he can be completely focused," Meren said. "My mind always wanders."

"He must have got it from his father," Lothíriel replied. "My brother Elphir always said that the only reason I could not fight properly was because I was always thinking about other things when I fought."

"You learned how to fight?" Meren's eyes widened.

"It was a long time ago. I haven't picked up a sword for many years." A wave of nostalgia came over her as she thought of the old days in Dol Amroth. "Elphir taught me when I was seventeen. It wasn't common for girls to be able to fight, but my father didn't see how any harm could come from it. He even encouraged me. But I never got very good at it." Lothíriel shook her head. "Anyway, that's enough of me. I didn't drag you away from your work just to reminisce about my younger days. At dinner last night I couldn't help but notice that you and my son are on very good terms. What do you think of him?"

"Begging your pardon, my lady?"

Lothíriel smiled at Meren. "A mother sometimes wonders what people thinks of her child."

"Well there's no need to worry about your son, my lady," Meren said. "Elfwine is a wonderful person."

Lothíriel feigned surprise. "Really? Tell me, what do you see in him?"

Meren hesitated. "I see… I see a young man who is eager to be the best that he can be. I see a young man who cares so much about his duty and destiny, and would do anything to keep himself from letting his people down. As I said, Elfwine is a wonderful person."

"A little daft and blind, though," Lothíriel said matter-of-factly.

"My lady?"

Lothíriel patted Meren's arm. "Don't you worry about a thing. I had to be kidnapped before his father even figured out what he was feeling. Things will come round in the end." With that, she got to her feet and walked away calmly, leaving the girl in a stunned silence.


	43. It Hit Home

**Chapter 43 : It Hit Home**

* * *

Meren sat on her bed, still shocked from what Lothíriel had told her.

After Lothíriel left, Meren had sat stock-still where she had been left, then quickly got up and hurried back to her room. Everything felt as if it had come crashing down on her all at once, and her head was spinning. She finally understood, and what she realised filled her with an unknown terror. She had fallen in love with the prince of Rohan!

It had been the very thing she had run away from. She had watched with what almost seemed like disgust as her sisters first fell in love, and then married, giving up all their dreams and fantasies of adventure for a quiet lives as quiet wives. And she had promised herself that she would never give herself up that easily, that she would fight to live the life she wanted to. Her mother had begun trying to match her with some of the "nice boys" in the village when she had managed to convince her father that working in Edoras would be for the best. After such a narrow escape, did she come to Edoras just to follow the same fate?

And it wasn't just any boy, it was the prince! Meren could hardly believe herself. She would never be able to become royalty. She just could not behave that way, just did not have what was required. How could Elfwine ever love her? She would never be all he needed, would never be all he wanted. Things would never turn out that way, no matter what Lothíriel had said.

A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought over what she would never have.

* * *

"Your mother was here just now," Éothain said as he closed the door to the armoury. "She asked me not to say anything. I suppose she didn't want to distract you."

"But Mother knows that she doesn't distract me."

"She wasn't alone." Éothain gave Elfwine a significant look. "Your mother must like her."

Elfwine had a feeling that he knew who Éothain was speaking of, but he just wanted to be sure. "Who?"

"I'm sure you know who I'm talking about, Elfwine. Meren."

_Meren._ Just the name made his head go round in circles thinking about her. "Yes, my mother does like her." _But why were they together?_

"Not without reason, I believe. Freda says that Meren is a wonderful girl." Another look. "You take care of what you have, all right?"

Elfwine shook his head. "No… she likes Elboron."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Elfwine said, getting that sinking feeling in his heart again. "They fit together really well, you should see them."

"Oh." Éothain said nothing more, and Elfwine did not feel like volunteering any more information. He didn't like talking about it.

* * *

_My dearest father,  
Yesterday I received a letter from Erchirion and Amrothos, with a most amusing account of Galador. I suppose he has inherited the traits that both you and Elphir have missed out on. Either that, or my two brothers have had too great a part in his upbringing. Anyway, it was a pleasure to receive news from Dol Amroth, and I wish to be there again one day, just to set eyes on my beloved birthplace.  
Things are going well in Rohan. Éomer went to the Westfold yesterday to look into some matters in some of the villages. I do not expect it to be a very long journey, and perhaps he would be back in a month. There is no reason for him to linger too long in the villages, causing the villagers to be more anxious over how to treat their king than over their crops, and he would be eager to see Elfwine and I again.  
Speaking of Elfwine, though… I think your first grandson is discovering something, or rather, someone, in his life that is making things seem very, very different. The only trouble is that he neither knows what to do with it nor what to do with himself. He's in a very muddled state indeed, and I think I have no right to spell everything out for him, especially since I am not completely certain of matters. Are all men so confused whenever it comes to what they feel?  
I can barely believe that I am already worrying about his matters. It doesn't seem so very long ago when I was trying to find my own way, and needed help from both you and Isindil to figure out what was going on. Now, I'm trying to help my son. It seems all so surreal, and sometimes it feels like I would suddenly wake up to find myself in bed in Dol Amroth, twenty again, twenty and clueless. Have you ever felt that way, Father?  
I shall have to stop writing now. With Éomer in the Westfold I am in charge in Edoras. Elfwine helps in every way he can, and I have to say (and not without pride) that he is remarkably capable for a boy his age. I was certainly not as useful when I was nineteen, was I?  
__Love,  
Lothíriel_

The door opened as Lothíriel folded the letter. "Mother?" Elfwine came up and sat down opposite her, looking rather awkward. Lothíriel supposed he was going to say something about Meren, so she said nothing and just looked up at him, letting him speak. Elfwine shifted in his seat. "Éothain said you were watching me practice today. With Meren, I think."

"Yes, I was there with Meren. I think you did very well today, and Meren agreed with me." Lothíriel met her son's eyes calmly, silently daring him to surrender to his heart.

"She was just trying to be polite," Elfwine muttered.

"No, I don't believe she was. She really meant it," Lothíriel said firmly. She cleared her throat. "She believes in you, you know. You're very special to her."

Elfwine's gaze fell to his lap. "She just stays around with me because Elboron isn't around to occupy her," he mumbled desolately.

Lothíriel almost started when she heard that. "Why would you think that?" _Could I have been wrong?_

"I don't want to…" Elfwine began to say.

"You can tell me, Elfwine," Lothíriel said gently. "You used to tell me everything, remember? Have I ever let you down?"

"No, Mother," Elfwine said truthfully. He pulled the chair nearer to the desk. "Elboron and Meren get along so well together. When Elboron was here, they were always laughing together, having fun together. I was just sitting off to one side quietly, all by myself. I'm not much fun to be with. The two of them have so much fun together, and sometimes Meren still mentions Elboron." He sighed. "They're a good match."

"Do you love her, Elfwine?"

Elfwine jerked his head up. "Mother?"

"Think, Elfwine, think hard. Do you love her?"

Elfwine bit his lip. Lothíriel could almost see images of Meren running through his head. Finally he sighed and nodded. "Yes."

Lothíriel stood up. "Well, then, you should at least try," she said. She took the chair next to Elfwine's and took his hands. "My mother told me a long time ago that when love comes along, you must seize it and hold on to it, because it'll be the best thing that will ever happen to you. You must hold on to it even if it hurts, or you'll regret it forever." Tears stung her eyes as she recalled her mother's face, earnest and sincere. She could hardly believe that she was passing on these words now. "I didn't take her words very seriously then. But when I met your father, I knew she was right. Do you remember the story Freda used to tell you, about my kidnapping?" Elfwine nodded dumbly, and Lothíriel continued, "But no one ever told you _why_ I ran away in the first place and got kidnapped?" Elfwine shook his head, just watching his mother. Slowly, Lothíriel told him everything, reliving those days of hurt, tears and confusion.

"Things aren't always what they seem, Elfwine. People don't fall in love with each other just because they get along with each other and have plenty in common. And even if you are right, and Meren has given her heart to Elboron, would you like to live the rest of your life wondering what things would have been like if only you had tried? You will never know how things stand until you take a risk, Elfwine. You might get hurt, but it is worth it. Trust me." Lothíriel smiled and kissed her son's forehead. "Anyway, if you fall and get hurt, I'll be right here to pick you up and make things better. Just like I've always done."


	44. Women

**Chapter 44 : Women**

* * *

Elfwine sat on his bed glumly. It wasn't like him to hide out in his room during the day, but he didn't feel like doing anything else.

After he had finally admitted that he was in love with Meren, and his mother had done so much to help him, Meren had begun ignoring him. When he went down to the kitchens to see her, she always told him that she had work to do, that she was busy, that she couldn't speak with him at the moment. Every single time, for about three weeks now. It had never happened before, and he wondered what had brought about the change. He didn't understand it at all.

Perhaps Meren had grown tired of him, and was now yearning for Elboron to return to Edoras so she could see him again. Perhaps she was missing Elboron, and didn't want to see Elfwine anymore. Perhaps he was just boring.

He sighed, flopping back down on his bed. Why hadn't anyone told him that love was so exasperating?

* * *

Lothíriel hummed a tune absently as she leaned back in Éomer's chair. A rider had arrived the night before saying that the king could be expected today, but asked for "no fancy welcome". That was just like Éomer. Well, fancy welcome or not, Lothíriel was glad that he was coming back. It would be good to see him again. Especially when she had this dramatic affair in her hands.

She sighed when she thought about Elfwine and Meren. As soon as one side was fixed, the other would go wrong again! She had thought that she had finally set things right, and now Meren was avoiding Elfwine with all she was worth. And Lothíriel had no right to order Meren to see her son. This time, there _really_ was nothing she could do but watch and wait, which was extremely irritating.

There was a knock on the door, and Elfwine poked his head in. "Mother, the riders are in sight now," he said with a smile. "Father's home!"

Lothíriel was on her feet immediately, a smile already on her face. She had expected him to be back sometime in the evening, not in the middle of the morning! "Are they still far?" she asked, smoothing her dress down as she left the room with her son.

"Not far. I think they'd be at the gates now."

Mother and son hurried to the door of the hall just as Éomer was walking up the steps. His smile widened when he saw them, and he began to take the steps two at a time. "Oh, it's lovely to see the two of you again," he said, giving Lothíriel a kiss. "How have things been?"

"You speak as if you have been away for ages, Father!" Elfwine said. "It's only been three weeks."

"Three weeks is three weeks," Lothíriel said. "And that's a rather long time to be away from home, don't you think?" She was absolutely delighted that her husband was home, and held his hand in hers tightly. "Come, you must be tired. And hungry, as well." She gave Elfwine a sly look. "Elfwine, why don't you go down to the kitchens and get some food for your father?"

Elfwine mumbled something and went off to carry out his mother's instructions. Éomer looked as his son walked away and frowned. "What's wrong with him?"

"It'll take quite a while to explain everything," Lothíriel told him with a sigh. "But don't worry, you'll be hearing of it soon enough. In fact, I mean to have a rather long talk with you about it."

"Oh dear. Is it that serious?"

Lothíriel nodded. "Yes, but it can still wait for a while. You'll hear of it later. First, you just get some rest and food."

* * *

After a most satisfactory breakfast, and a good wash, Éomer leaned back in his usual chair in his study with a contented sigh. It was indeed wonderful to be home once more. The problem had not been that great, and it had already been under control when he had arrived at the village. Still, the people had been glad to see him, and to know that their king cared about them.

The door opened gently and Lothíriel entered the room, a book in her hands. Éomer gave his wife a welcoming smile. It felt so good just to be able to see her again. Lothíriel returned his smile, taking a seat opposite him. Éomer leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. "So, what's wrong with Elfwine?"

"Something I'm sure you are rather familiar with…" Lothíriel slowly related everything that had happened since the day Éomer had left, starting with the dinner, and how she had tried her hand at matchmaking and how everything seemed to be falling apart.

"Well, it seems as if you've have plenty to do while I was gone, haven't you?" he said jokingly. Then he sobered down. "What could possibly be wrong with the two of them? I thought they had always been on good terms."

"I have no idea what's wrong either. That's why you're going to find out and fix it."

If Éomer had been drinking water, he would have either choked or spit it all out, and so it was very fortunate that his cup was still sitting mildly on his table. "_I'm_ going to fix it? What makes you think I could do that?"

"Well, I've tried my best for own son. It's your turn now, don't you think?" Lothíriel smiled sweetly. "I'm sure you'll have some advice, some tricks up your sleeve." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "You managed to win my heart so well. I'm sure you have some tips to pass on to your son."

Éomer sighed. _Women._ They always found ways to make you do whatever they wanted. But how was he going to manage this?

* * *

_Pretty short chapter, and for that I apologise._


	45. Eomer Helps

_I'm really really sorry for not writing for such a long time!_

_I would also like to say that I think the next chapter is going to be the last. If this goes on anymore I'd be talking about Elfwine's kids and I'd never ever get to the end. It'd become one of those draggy soap opera like stories that everyone hates. I'll be sorry to finish this story but also glad 'cos then I can start on something new! Planning to explore different types of fanfic instead of writing LotR ones all the time but I'm sure that I'll have plenty of LotR stuff to write still._

* * *

**Chapter 45 : Éomer Helps**

* * *

Éomer stared down at the nineteen-year-old boy looking up expectantly at him. Then he stared out of the window, looking at the dark, threatening clouds in the sky. What _could_ he say to Elfwine? It was all Lothíriel's fault, trying to match make, and then leaving everything in his hands when things didn't go the way she expected! _But then again, why did you agree to help?_ For the first time in his life, he truly wished that Erchirion and Amrothos were in Edoras. They would find some way to solve the problem, even if the solution was a little unorthodox.

However, this time he strongly doubted that a lock-up in a supply room would simply solve the problem. It really was a pity that he couldn't just _order_ them to make things right themselves.

He sighed and took a seat. "Elfwine," he began carefully. "Your mother told me about your… your… ah… problem." Was it right to refer to Meren as a 'problem'? It seemed a little mean to him, but he didn't know how else to put it.

Elfwine sighed as well. "I know, Father," he said resignedly. "But I don't know what to do about it. Meren's avoiding me."

"But that doesn't mean that you should give up," Éomer persisted. "Giving up doesn't get you anywhere. I thought you'd have learnt that from all the councils you've attended with me. Perhaps there's something that's bothering her? Leaving her alone and withdrawing into yourself doesn't give you any answers; it just gives you more questions."

"I know, but I can't get her alone these days. It's as if she's hiding from me on purpose."

"Give it one more try, son. Sometimes one more try is all it takes."

* * *

Elfwine walked out of his father's study with Éomer's words still ringing in his ears. _One more try… I could do that_, he thought firmly. He could, and he would. Meren was _that_ important, she was worth risking everything for.

He was walking towards the kitchens when he saw Meren coming out of it, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. She had not noticed him yet. This was his chance. He hurried up to her. "Meren!"

She jumped when she saw him, and he planted himself right in front of her, determined not to let her get away. _One more try…_ He took a deep breath. "I haven't spoken to you for quite some time. I was wondering if you would like to meet me later, after this meeting I have to attend with my father."

Meren refused to meet his pleading eyes. "I have the afternoon off, but I was going to go riding."

"But it looks like a storm…"

"I'll be fine."

Elfwine sighed. "Could I join you after the meeting, then?"

"If you wish."

Elfwine watched as Meren brushed past him and hurried off. _At least I can meet her later._

* * *

Meren entered the stables, not knowing what she was doing there. It had been a lie; she had had no intention of going riding. But it just came out of her, and she had no idea why she had found the necessity to lie. There had just been that feeling that she needed to get away from him as soon as possible, before she collapsed and cried.

She sat down on the nearest stool she saw and absently plaited her hair. Thoughts raced through her mind, thoughts that she couldn't push away. _What if I told him? What would he say? Would he push me away, would he never speak to me again? What's the difference anyway, Meren, you already don't speak to him anymore. What does he think of it?_

"Meren?"

When she saw who it was, Meren jumped to her feet. "My lord…"

Éomer waved away her curtsy. "Sit down, Meren, don't mind me." He looked around and found another stool. Sitting down right next to her, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "Ah… so how are things going for you?"

"All right, my lord. I have no complaints."

"Wish I could say the same for Elfwine."

"Excuse me?"

"Elfwine is a capable young man, but he's lost when it comes to love."

Meren's heart was pounding so loudly she was wondering if the whole of Edoras could hear it. "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, my lord."

"My wife has noticed our son's troubled state of mind. I'm afraid he has fallen in love but found no return." Éomer gave Meren a long look. "What do you think, Meren?"

With that look, Meren knew that she had been caught. There was no way she could lie. "A prince cannot marry a servant, my lord. He needs a dutiful wife with grace and wisdom, one he can be proud to call his queen when the time comes."

"And you think you cannot give him that?"

Meren shook her head. "I'm a simple girl, brought up a in little village. I know nothing of politics or such grand matters. I know not how royalty is expected to behave. I'm afraid that I would be found wild."

Éomer laughed. "Have you heard of my sister?"

"Of course, my lord. The story of the Lady Éowyn disguising herself to fight in the battle of Pelennor Fields can be heard anywhere. She is greatly respected."

"But I don't suppose you've heard that she couldn't cook without almost setting the whole kitchen on fire, or that her sewing is one of the greatest disasters Edoras has even witnessed! But still the Prince of Ithilien, Elboron's father, married her all the same. He loves her very much, and I can tell that he is most proud to call her his wife." Éomer smiled at Meren kindly. "Don't worry about being not good enough for Elfwine. You are more than just 'good enough', because he loves you for exactly who you are. I assure you that he would never settle for anything else."


	46. Why Don't You Just Kiss Me

_This is it! The last chapter of the story. I'm going to miss writing it, and daydreaming chapters for it during school hours. But school has ended, I've graduated and now it's time to end the story. I definitely feel sorry for letting it end, but it has to end. I might take a break from because I definitely need to study for my MAJOR MAJOR exams and also I want to write a bit more for my FictionPress account. But for , I'm currently playing around with this rather strange idea for a new story so that's something for people to watch out for!_

_TO CALAFAIR : Hahahaha thanks for the offer Bel, but I don't think Dan will be employed in this story. I'm sure he's very grateful to you for trying to get him a job, though. But Elfwine won't be kidnapped in this story. If you want, though, I'll add you in the next story of mine and get you kidnapped, okay?_

* * *

**Chapter 46 : Why Don't You Just Kiss Me**

* * *

Meren watched in a daze as Éomer gave her a smile and left the stables. His words were just beginning to sink in. _Elfwine loves me?_ It seemed to good to be true, but Éomer had no reason to lie. Then it _had_ to be true. It stunned her to the core. She got up and went back to her room without really realising that she was moving.

Lying on her bed, Éomer's words were just beginning to sink in. It all made sense. It would explain why Elfwine was so different around her, why he always seemed to stiffen whenever Elboron was mentioned. She had always thought that he wanted to distance himself from her, but now she realised that Elfwine had been _jealous_ of Elboron. A laugh burst out of her suddenly, she couldn't believe that he had been so silly; that he didn't notice that he was the one she loved. _But you were silly too; you didn't even realise you love him, and that he loves you._ A smile broke through her happy tears.

* * *

The clouds were positively menacing. They blocked out the sun, and although it was only about two in the afternoon, it was dark out. Elfwine looked out of the window restlessly, his mind on Meren. Was she out of her mind, going riding when the clouds looked like _that_? What if she was caught out in the storm that was, without a doubt, coming? As if to reinforce his worries, thunder rumbled in the skies, and his frown deepened.

The door opened and he turned to see his mother. "What are you worrying about now, Elfwine?" she asked, coming to stand by his side. "With all the worrying you do, it was as if you were king already."

"I'm just thinking about Meren, Mother. She said that she was going riding."

"In this weather?" Lothíriel frowned too. "_That_ is something to worry about. I would say that I'm a reckless person, but not even I would venture out in this weather."

"You're not reckless, Mother," Elfwine replied absently. "I wonder how far she's going to go. It might not be safe for her if things worsen." He sighed. "I said that I would meet her after the meeting."

Lothíriel touched his arm. "You don't have to attend the meeting; I'll speak to your father. It's pointless if you're worrying about something else the whole time anyway. The most important thing that a king has to do is to do what he thinks is right."

Elfwine turned to look his mother. How he loved her! She had been there for him through everything for as long as he could ever remember. She had always found ways to make things right. She was like a rock in his life, and she had never let him down. She was looking at him with that kind, gentle gaze that had reassured him so many times before, and he smiled at her. She was right, as usual. "Thank you, Mother." He gave her a kiss.

"What are mothers for?"

* * *

Lothíriel stayed in Elfwine's room for a while after her son left. She had a good feeling that everything was going to be all right, which was why she had encouraged Elfwine to go after Meren despite the threatening weather. The time had come for Elfwine to do what he believed was good for himself. She had to stop trying so hard to take care of her boy. _Elfwine has grown up._ It felt strange, that feeling of release. Since he was sixteen she had always thought to herself that her son was now a man, but it was only now that she really _felt_ it. And it was a sad yet sweet feeling.

She smiled as she went on her way to attend the meeting on her son's behalf.

* * *

Elfwine hurried into the stables and saddled his horse. It was strangely quiet; everyone had gone home, wanting to just wait out the storm.

The first drops of rain fell as he was riding towards the gates. The guards looked as if they wanted to speak up, but he waved them away and rode out of Edoras. He blinked the rain out of his eyes, peering about for Meren. He didn't see her anywhere. _Where could she have gone? It's so dangerous for her to be out alone! What am I going to do if something happened to her?_ Frustrated, he fought against his common sense telling him that he should get back, that she had probably turned back herself already. He looked about wildly, hoping and praying to see her somewhere, as the thunder shook even the grounds.

"My lord!" One of the guards had ridden out after him. "My lord, you should get inside, there's going to be a storm!"

"I can't, I'm looking for Meren!" Elfwine yelled over the thunder.

The guard shook his head. "You should get inside, my lord! No one rode through this afternoon!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am! Come and get back inside, my lord!"

Elfwine followed with no protest. As soon as he took care of his horse, he was out running in the rain again. This time to Meren's room. He stopped at the door, soaking wet. Still panting, he knocked and waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently, oblivious to the water dripping off his sleeves and hair.

After what felt like eternity, Meren opened the door. "Elfwine!" she exclaimed. "You're soaking wet!"

"I thought you went riding. I was looking for you."

"Oh… I'm so sorry. I didn't go riding after all. I'm sorry, Elfwine."

"Well, you're safe now," Elfwine replied awkwardly, suddenly at a loss at what to do. "I was worried. You could get sick if you were caught out in the rain. I mean… you could… it'd be cold and you… ah… you could get a cold… or even pneumonia."

A smile spread over Meren's face. "Elfwine?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you just kiss me?"


End file.
